The Five Year Run
by Xanatos Stones
Summary: After awakening her dark side through a genocide run, Frisk manages to regain her sanity for a brief moment after killing Sans. She resets one last time, and this time simply moves into Snowdin. She has lost her determination, and simply coasts. Days. Weeks. Months. Years. Then, a week before her eighteenth birthday, the relative peace is shattered when a mysterious enemy appears.
1. Prologue (Frisk)

Hello people of the internet. My name is Hero of Time Freak and this is my newest story. I hope you enjoy the dangers that are about to unfold before your eyes. The story of Frisk, the underdetermined.

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 **Prologue**

The skeleton coughed, blood running out of the slash in his shirt. Standing over him, bloody knife in hand, thirteen year old Frisk stepped backwards, eyes shocked. Blood? What the heck? The skeleton looked up at her, and a shiver ran down Frisk's back. He wasn't looking at her with anger anymore, or hate. No… the look in his eyes was a mixture of pain and… sadness.

"So… I guess… that's it then, isn't it?" The skeleton struggled to his feet, while Frisk watched wide-eyed. But he didn't step towards her, didn't attempt to strike her again. Instead, he closed his eyes, as if accepting his fate. "Just… just don't say I didn't warn you, ok?" He turned and began to walk away from her, stepping slowly out of The Void.

Frisk just stood there, stunned, shocked, horrified. Blood… Her eyes hadn't left the blood as the skeleton spoke. The ash that covered her body began to feel heavier as well, the weight of all the lives she had taken. The obnoxious dancing robot, the courageous Undyne, the annoying but lovable Papyrus. Over a hundred runs, over a hundred failures, and somehow it was all ending… here. Dozens of years spent searching for a happy ending. And her closest friend during that time dying in front of her, by her own hand. Shame… So much shame…

"I'm going to Grillbys." Frisk heard the words, but they barely registered. Then he was gone from The Void, and she heard the words, "Papyrus, do you want anything?" Then he was gone. A moment later, Frisk felt a surge of energy and power coursing through her body. The skeleton was dead.

"Good riddance," a now all too familiar voice said, and the turned to see her companion on this nightmare mission standing next to her with a proud expression on her face. "Come Frisk, let's end this." The girl extended her hand, but Frisk stepped back defiantly. Chara looked confused, and stepped forward. "What are you doing?"

She had to get out of here. She had to escape. The horrible actions, the nightmarish scenes, slicing, ash, blood… She looked down once again at the blood splattered on her shirt, and tears came to her eyes. She was a monster. She had to run. Had to escape. Hide from Chara. Hide from herself. Hide from the truth of what she had done.

Chara's eyes widened as she realized what Frisk was about to do, and rushed towards her. "No. WAIT!"

Watching Chara approach, Frisk knew it was now or never. She was crushed, broken, defeated, but one last time she needed to do it. One last time, she needed to be determined. She set her hand to the blood and ash that covered her body. "Reset."

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Hope you enjoyed. More is to follow. If you liked my story please leave me a review to let me know. They mean a lot.


	2. Chapter 1: Grillby (Frisk)

Hello audience. Here is more of the story for your enjoyment. The story of Frisk the Undetermined continues. Hope you enjoy.

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 **Chapter 1: Grillbys**

"Three burgers over here, Frisk!" A teenager of about eighteen years turned her head in the direction of the voice and nodded her head in acknowledgement. She was the sole waitress of Grillby's Bar, and thus constantly found herself moving about with little time for rest. Luckily, the place wasn't usually very busy, and the small size made it easy to move from one place to another. Plus, the roller skates that Grillbys had given her helped a lot. It _had_ taken a while to learn how to carry plates and skate at the same time though. If she thought back on her first few months on the job. She shuddered. There was no way she'd saved him more than she'd cost him.

Turning and heading in Grillby's direction, she called out, "Yeah! I'm on it." Her short white skirt blew lightly against her legs as she moved, though it still held her tucked in blue, button up shirt in place. She skidded to a stop next to him and held out her platter. Grillby smiled and set the three hamburgers on top of it.

Grillby, the owner of said bar, was unique even in the bizarre world that Frisk now called home. He was humanoid, though his entire body was made out of solid flame. His head was more unique though, curled back into the typical image of a flame that people drew, and with only eyes where his face should have been. Frisk had often wondered how the monster could even speak. He wore a pair of glasses over said eyes, likely so that he looked a bit less intimating. He also wore a button up, short sleeved tux shirt, a black vest, and really professional looking jeans. Somehow, despite his lack of a mouth, he always seemed to be smiling.

"Not sure why you even have a menu, Grilz," she said with a slight chuckle. "You only serve one kind of food." Not quite true. He also served one kind of drink, but that didn't really make the menu any more necessary. He gave her his typical response, a shrug, and motioned for her to go deliver the food. Frisk dashed away.

Five years had disappeared in what seemed like the flash of an eye, only a couple days until her eighteen birthday, and the fifth anniversary of her final return to the past. It felt weird. After so much time spent jumping around in time, anywhere between twenty and fifty years worth, she'd lost count, for time to just run linearly. But she'd given up trying to make the world a better place. Who was she to assume she could do that? And things here… the simple slow passing of time… it felt nice in a way. Things were ok.

The door to the bar swung open dramatically, and before she even had time to look, Frisk knew who had entered. Only one person ever attempted to look cool walking into _Grillby's._ Dropping off the burgers, which took only a matter of seconds, Frisk turned to look in the direction of the now open doors. Sure enough, the entrance had been made by her best friend, Megan, who was at the moment striding into the room as one would expect an action movie hero to. It was likely because she'd seen too many Mettaton films, but Frisk wasn't really one to talk. She'd seen them all, probably almost as many times as Megan had.

Megan was a yellow stegosaurus of sorts, her body resembling a human dinosaur hybrid. She had a tail, two human legs, a relatively human shaped head with a snout, and a smile set of stegosaurus horns running from the top of her head to the back of her neck. Also of note were her metal arms, an addition that a mutual friend of theirs had made for her a year or so back.

The apparel she had adopted, however, hadn't come from a film that had been made by Mettaton, or by any monster for that matter. She preferred to dress as the iconic action hero, Indiana Jones. She wore the hat, the vest, a whip slung over her left shoulder, an adventurer belt from her shoulder to her hip, the white shirt, and the leather vest. She wore an identical looking shoulder bag, and even had a revolver in a holster on her hip. Frisk had seen her using it before, and there was no denying that the girl was skilled.

Of course she was also… As Frisk was thinking the thought, Megan took five steps into the bar, tripped, and fell. She'd been learning how to catch herself using her arms, but as they were a relatively new addition to her body, it hadn't yet developed into a natural reaction. As a result, they didn't move fast enough, and Megan ended up on the ground in a hump.

Eyes darting back to see how Grillby was doing on the next orders, Frisk set her empty platter on an empty table. Then she skated over to her friend, and helped her back to her feet. Sure, Megan could have done it by herself, even before she had arms, but that didn't mean she wouldn't appreciate the help.

"One of these days we are going to have to find a way to make sure you aren't so top heavy," Frisk said with a chuckle as Megan got back to her feet.

"Thanks," Megan said with a smile, but recoiled at the very mention of a change of wardrobe. "B…But I spent so much time on this outfit, Frisk…" She motioned up and down it. "I am Indiana Megan, discoverer of mysterious things and researcher of ancient stuff! This outfit is critical!" She sat down in an empty booth with a sigh. Then she smirked and said, "I'll have the usual."

Frisk returned the smirk. The usual was what most people ordered. It meant they wanted both items that Grillby served. There were really only three orders she ever got. Food, Drink, and The Usual. On the rare occasion somebody would come in and ask what they had on the menu. Which was probably why Grillby had it. Frisk giggled at the memory of the last time it had happened. It was always rather entertaining watching somebody's facial reaction upon opening the menu and reading, "Hamburger – Drink."

Skating back over to the empty table, Frisk picked up her platter and carried it back into the kitchen. "Megan wants The Usual," she said with a smile. Grillby's nod was nearly imperceptible, as he didn't even turn from the grill, but Frisk had gotten quite good at noticing it. Quickly taking the now finished meals, she raced back around and dropped them off. Then she came to a stop once more at Megan's table.

Placing her elbows on the table so that she could relax a minute, Frisk continued their conversation. "Your outfit is fine," she said as she gave it another once over. "Actually, I think it works pretty well for you. But…" she glanced at the metal arms. "We just need to find a way to put some weight on the bottom…"

"Yeah," came a familiar voice, chortling as he spoke. "But then wouldn't she be a bit Bottom Heavy?" The voice came from the booth seat that Megan was sitting on. Only she was on the outside portion, and the voice was coming from the inside. Basically, it should have been impossible for anybody to get there, as they would have had to slide through Megan. Yet, there he was, a young smiling skeleton.

"Eh?" he said with a chuckle, nudging Megan. Megan simply blushed. The skeleton coughed, as if attempting to cover up that he had been laughing. "Not funny, huh? My bad. Couldn't resist." He glanced between Megan and Frisk. "I'll have what she's having." Which was a kinda odd thing to say, as he most certainly hadn't been there when she ordered. But Frisk had long ago stopped trying to understand Sans the Skeleton.

As she turned to go, Sans cleared his throat. "I suppose Megan is probably here for the same reason that I am. With Toriel out of town for her monthly expedition to The Flowerbed to see if there are any more fallen humans, Pap was wondering if you had any plans for the next few days. He sent me to ask."

Frisk's emotion changed for a couple of seconds as she thought about the future. She hadn't been doing much of that lately. The closer it came to the anniversary, the less she tried to look ahead. It was too painful, and left her way too unstable. So all she could give was a general response.

"Not much. Probably wander around town. See what's up with the people here. Visit the library." Sans opened his mouth to say something else, but Frisk cut him off. Grillby was probably wondering what was taking her so long. "I… should probably get your order in. I am on the clock." She turned and skated hurriedly back over to Grillby.

As soon as Frisk was no longer in earshot, Sans turned his attention to Megan. "So…" Megan whispered, "Any news on the SITUATION? Heard anything from You Know Who yet?"

You Know Who. Sans couldn't bear to hear the name these days, but even those three words brought him a lot of pain. There had been silence for years, and it was unsettling. There wasn't even any guarantee that the man was still alive. After all, nothing like this had ever happened before. But without him, Sans felt like he was groping in the dark. And he hated that feeling.

"No," Sans finally replied, with a heavy hearted sigh. "Same as always. Still nothing but static. But the feeling in my gut is getting worse. Something really bad is on the horizon. And I am afraid." He'd never admitted that aloud before. Not even back when Chara was still… He shuddered and pushed the thought out of his head. So many terrible memories. So many regrets. "Toriel. If we ever do see her again, it won't be for a very, very long time." As he finished, his signature smile returned. A mask to hide his true emotions from the world.

Picking up Megan's food, and telling Grillby Sans' order, Frisk headed back to the table where he friends were whispering. She wondered curiously what they were talking about. She knew Megan was head-over-heels for Sans, but she wasn't sure the skeleton's feelings. Despite how close they had been at one time, she made sure to keep him at a distance now. He could read people too well, and she didn't want him reading her.

Unbidden, the image replayed in her head. Sans, covered in blood, looking at her with such pity. She'd seen him die… had caused it. But she'd learned how to hide those thoughts. Hopefully well enough that he'd never find them. She just had to push them down, like he did. Pretend everything was ok. That she was fine without the calming effect of having her mother around, that she didn't still have nightmares.

She always had this fear though, a fear of what she would become if Toriel were no longer around. If she would be able to keep herself from… changing. But Toriel would be fine. She always was. Nothing ever happened on her journeys to the flowerbed. The feeling was hard to shake though. After all, she'd killed Toriel herself on one such visit. If another human happened to fall down, who was to say that they wouldn't do the same?

She stopped next to Sans and Megan who had suddenly fallen strangely silent. "What were you two lovers talking about?" She asked with a wink. Megan blushed and Sans appeared awkward. "Just kidding. I heard you whispering something about Mom?"

Sans recovered quickly, going back to playing it cool. "Yeah, we were discussing whether or not Toriel would mind you coming over to mine and Pap's house for the weekend. I really don't like thinking about you being alone in that house. I mean, you are still a human after all. What if something happened?"

Frisk blinked, taken aback. Had he read into her thoughts just now or something? Megan, to her surprise, also seemed displeased with the idea. Perhaps she didn't like the thought of her being alone with Sans? "Jealous," she asked Megan with a knowing grin.

"No," Megan replied, attempting placate her emotions. "I just think it's completely unnecessary. I mean, this happens every single month, at pretty much the exact same time. You've never had a problem before, so it shouldn't be a big deal. You're almost eighteen. I was simply trying to explain to Sans that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself."

"That is flawed logic, and you know it," Sans pointed out, remaining calm. "Just because a problem hasn't happened before, doesn't mean that it won't. And the fact that she is almost eighteen is the reason why she shouldn't be left alone. All three of us know the repercussions. She may be Toriel's daughter, but as a human, she still isn't very popular, and her diplomatic immunity has almost worn out. And a few eccentric people…" Undyne the Undying was one such monster that came to mind. "…may not be willing to wait a week."

Frisk liked Sans' idea, to an extent. She had no intention of spending time at the house with Sans, but hanging out with Papyrus always made her feel better. Besides, there was something she was more afraid of than being around Sans', and that was being alone. The monsters didn't scare her. She'd long ago proven that she could handle herself against anything they could dish out, but being alone was never truly alone. _She_ was still out there.

The nightmare girl, the one who had convinced her to try the genocide route, the one who had encouraged her the entire time. The one who had spent the first three yeas of this run attempting to make her lose control again. Sure, Chara hadn't said a word in over two years, but it didn't feel like she'd left. Rather that she was just biding her time.

"I wouldn't mind staying with you guys," Frisk responded. "I could work with Papyrus on his puzzles." Puzzles designed to capture humans, ironically enough. The puzzles were set up by the extension of the Royal Guard that Papyrus led in Snowdin. And as there really wasn't much trouble in the backwater town, that was literally all they did. Frisk wasn't a part of it, as much as she wanted to be, because Undyne had made it clear. No humans in the Royal Guard. She had, however, on a number of trips, helped Papyrus to set up traps.

Sans nodded, pleased with her reaction. A couple regulars who had just entered the building called for Frisk and she skated off to get their orders. Sans smiled as he watched her go. She was clearly in a lot of pain, but she hid it at least as well as he did. Took a phony to tell a phony though, and he was as phony as they came. Maybe that was why he always felt such a kinship to the human girl. Well… that, and she reminded him of Chara.

"What are you thinking?" Megan asked with clear concern.

"She is going to either be in the same house as me, or with Papyrus, when things go down. Either of us should be more than enough to protect her."

"But what if the silence finally breaks? I mean, we need it to! If You Know Who doesn't respond soon, we could easily end up way over our heads. And do you realize how suspicious it is going to look for her to be going in and out of Papyrus's room, while being absolutely forbidden to even open your door? This is not a good idea, Sans!"

Sans eyes darkened, and his smile turned into a frown. "I would rather have her uncover all of my secrets, even the ones that you don't know yet, rather than having her be killed by some unknown evil when I could have prevented it." Megan looked away, as she always did when Sans got like this. It was at times like this, when his dark side began to come through, that she was reminded of just how dangerous the skeleton was. When she looked back up, he was gone.

The diner had gotten busy, and Frisk found herself running from table to table to table, dropping off food and picking up orders. She preferred times like this, moments that didn't give her time to think. It was the main reason she'd gotten the job. The other was to help her mother pay the bills. But in all honesty, that had been a close second. Nothing was more important than forgetting. It wasn't until Sans' food was ready that she was able to make it back to his table, only to discover, that per usual, he had up and vanished.

She set his burger down in his empty space. He could always magically appear and eat it later if he wanted. She'd have to remember to make him pay before she delivered his order the next time though. Megan looked troubled, and she had a couple minutes before the next burgers were ready so Frisk sat down on the seat across from her. "What's up?"

"Sans," Megan said with a sigh. "Sometimes I don't understand him at all. The closer I get to him, the further it feels like he is pulling away. He still keeps so many secrets. The more I learn the more I wonder if I will ever know who he truly is. Sometimes it just seems impossible."

"No," Frisk replied hurriedly. "Don't give up. Never give up. Nothing is impossible." Hypocrite. That's what she was at the moment. She glanced around at the monsters happily eating their food, chatting back and forth and laughing. She'd quit. The monsters were still trapped underground. No closer to getting free. Hundreds of runs, hundreds of tries, and they were still just as trapped as ever. They'd decided to make the most of their lives though, just as she had learned to. Every day, when she woke up, she made a vow to make the most of the life she was now living.

"Tell you what," she said. "How about you come with me to their house this weekend? You might be able to learn more about the ol' bonehead."

Megan's eyebrows instantly raised. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, I'd love it to be honest, but are you really sure you are even allowed to invite me over to somebody else's house for the weekend?" She bit into the hamburger thoughtfully, still thinking about what Sans had said to her before disappearing. As she did, her emotions simultaneous changed.

It was something that always left Frisk unsettled. It was almost as if whatever weird darkness held Sans in its death grip, was now reaching out and grabbing hold of Megan as well. Her dark side would come, her face darkening, her lighthearted mood being replaced with a frightening intensity, and her demeanor itself becoming unsettling. "Have you felt it, Frisk? It's everywhere. I feel it. I taste it. It races through every pore of my being, both physical and mental."

Megan looked up, her eyes staring into Frisk's. Frisk's heart began to race, her pulse quickening. It sent a shiver running down her spine and she involuntarily shuddered. Megan's eyes were dark, terrifyingly dark, as if something else had come over her. It felt like she was staring deep into Frisk's soul and could read it her like a book. Yet, as always happened when Sans gave her that look, she found herself unable to look away. Standing up abruptly, Megan strode over to the bar's door. She turned around and said one more word. "Beware." Then she strode out into the darkness.

"I… What!?" Frisk called after Megan, heart beating even faster now. But of course, there was no response. She let loose one or two breaths, attempting to calm down her heart rate. That girl was _definitely_ spending way too much time with Sans. She'd kept hoping Megan's charm would rub off on Sans, but as of yet, it was clearly vice versa. The last time Sans had gotten that intense though wasn't even in this timeline, and it was never a good thing.

She tentatively reached up and moved her hand through the air, sniffing as well. It seemed same as always to her, nothing that bizarre about it. She glanced around at the monsters, who were still giving off that general air of contentment. They didn't seem to have any clue what Megan was talking about. Perhaps it was a Sans thing? A part of her wanted to rush after Megan, but Grillby was calling her name, and the customers were waiting for food. So, standing back to her feet and dusting off her outfit, she headed back to the kitchen.

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Inside of a house that defied physics, by having no foundation and walls that were all together toll thin, a girl who looked strikingly similar to Frisk lounged on a satin black couch. Everything in the house was a dark black or purplish color, even the books on the bookshelves. And the clothes that the girl wore. Her ears each had three earrings, and her hair was died dark black with a purple stripe. Too much makeup and eyeliner added to the effect of her pale skin and red eye. Very emo in appearance.

She could feel it. The stench, and it had woken her up. Things were going to change at last. After two long years of waiting, sleeping, building the house for no other reason than that she had nothing better to do. Looking out the window of her house, she observed the restaurant of Grillbys.

"You tried so hard, Frisk," she thought to herself. "Nobody would ever deny that. But as I told you such a very long time ago, sooner or later, you are going to belong to me!" She kept silent though, biding her time. Frisk would find out soon enough, and then shed step in. For now, it was simply time to enjoy the show.

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Hours passed. Customers came and went. Frisk ran around wildly, attempting to keep up. For whatever reason, it was a very busy day. Towards the end, however, the store became silent. Nobody coming or going. Outside she could see the wind beginning to pick up, the snow beginning to swirl. A blizzard, pretty much an anomaly in Snowdin as it had only happen twice before in the last five years. About an hour before the typical closing time, Grillby declared that there was little point in continuing to be open.

Frisk grabbed her jacket, clocked out, and turned to leave. Then she stopped and glanced back at Grillby. "You going to be ok out there?" It was blizzarding and he was made of fire, so it made her rather anxious.

"Yeah," he said with a nod of his head. "I should be fine. Thanks for the concern though." The two of them stepped outside, and Grillby locked the door behind them. "I won't be opening tomorrow," he told her as the two began to go their separate ways. "I have some other things I'll be attending to. See you on Monday."

Frisk waved goodbye and began the long trek to Sans' house. The roads were deserted. Clearly nobody thought venturing out into the cold like this was a good idea. Frisk didn't disagree. Even for Snowdin, it was freezing. The wind rushed past her, and she clutched her coat tightly to herself. Where did the wind even come from? It was a question that she had asked herself a number of times while in Snowdin. I mean, they were underground.

She looked up, but as always was unable to see the ceiling at the top of the cavernous world. She knew it was there though. After all, there were never any stars up there. She shook her head, and turned her attention back to what mattered most. Getting to Sans house and out of the freezing cold.

Her thoughts coming back to what was happening around her, Frisk started to frown. As the wind pushed past her, she felt she could hear something. A voice, barely audible, calling out to her. But try as she might, she couldn't figure out if it was anything more than normal wind sounds mixed with her imagination and anxiety.

That was when she saw it, lying half-buried next to the Christmas tree in the center of town. A shoe with the word NIKE on it. Unmistakably from the world above. How in the world had it gotten down here? She paused again, listening to the wind, but she couldn't hear the voice anymore, if it had been there at all.

"Hello?" she called out into the darkness. "Is there anybody out there? Is there are human out there somewhere?" But nobody came. Genocide. The word raced through her mind, and she felt her heart beginning to beat faster again. "Calm down," she hissed at herself. Everybody was inside because of the storm. They weren't dead.

"Frisk? What are you doing there?" Megan called out, tapping on her shoulder, appearing as if out of the air itself. Of course, it was way more likely that she had simply been walking through the snow. Visibility was near zero, and Sans was the only one who could teleport. Right? "It's really cold out here, and you've been standing staring at that tree for the last ten minutes. What in the world are you thinking?" She glanced around but saw nothing of note. The shoe had long ago been buried in the snow.

When Frisk gave no response, Megan took her by the hand. "You must be suffering from frostbite or something. Come on. I am getting you to Sans house _right_ now." As she strode roughly through the snow, Megan's eyes darted around warily. It was odd, as if she expected something dark and sinister to come barreling out of the snow at any moment.

Although it was only a five minute trip to Sans, the shivering cold and blinding snowstorm made it feel closer to an hour. Finally, Sans' house came into view, and Megan breathed an audible sigh of relief. Nothing had came out of the darkness, no demons, no humans, nothing. Finally, they had arrived at Sans' house.

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A NIKE Shoe. A mysterious feeling. And an unstable young girl. Frisk's peaceful world is about to fall apart. ;) Please read and review.


	3. Chapter 2: Hanging With Papyrus (Frisk)

And the story continues! Hope you enjoyed the last two entries in the story, and here is the third! :D Hope you enjoy.

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 **Chapter 2: Hanging With Papyrus**

Frisk sighed in relief upon stepping into the house. It was warm, and she could feel the feeling returning to her body. There was something relaxing about the house, despite the bizzarities that were evident in it. A prime example was the music that came from nowhere, and yet was always playing at the house. Sans Theme was what Papyrus would always call it, saying that his brother was the one who created the racket. Only issue was… it played even when Sans wasn't in the building.

That was only one of the peculiarities though. Strange flashing colors and sounds were constantly coming from under Sans door. A rock that Papyrus was convinced was Sans' pet sat on the large table and Papyrus was constantly feeding all sorts of deserts. A sock was always next to the TV with a lot of stick notes stuck to it. The sock was replaced with a new one every week or so. And a book, a really unsettling book, lay on the end table next to the large couch that sat in the middle of the room. It was a joke book with a physics book inside with a joke book inside with a physics book inside of that, an endless cycle that defied all concepts of logic

Frisk plopped down onto the couch, still somewhat out of it, and stared absent-mindedly at the powered off large plasma screen TV. Sighing, beginning to regain her senses, she whispered, "I saw a shoe… from the surface I think." It would be gone by the time the storm ended though. She knew how her luck worked, after all.

Megan, however, was not paying attention. She had other things on her mind. Something was off, she'd felt it the moment she walked into the house. Nothing _looked_ out of the ordinary, but actions weren't occurring that really should have been. They had stepped into the house, and as of yet, were completely unacknowledged. Sure she hadn't been invited here, but Frisk had. Sans have been waiting by the front door to make sure she got through the blizzard safely.

More than that though. Papyrus was off. Seemed every time they entered the house, he would come barreling down the stairs demanding another "platonic date" with Frisk. This time, he hadn't even left his room. Instead, he could be heard attempting to record some kind of song that was basically just him saying some of his favorite lines to music.

"Sans should have told him Frisk was coming over for a few days," Megan thought warily. "He should be down here asking her out on a date or preparing a meal for her to eat." The fact that he wasn't could only mean one thing. Sans hadn't taken the time to let him know. Which was very, very un-Sans-like.

That was when her subconscious registered the sounds coming from the coach. Frisk had been talking. Something about a shoe? And the surface? Putting her unease out of her mind, Megan turned back to Franz. "I'm sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?"

"I said there was a shoe from the surface outside. Covered in snow!" It was very clear that Frisk was frantic and unsettled, which made it a little hard to follow what she was saying.

"Shoes? So what?" Megan replied, absolutely bewildered. She glanced down at her Indiana Jones styled footwear. "I know that shoes aren't very common down here, Frisk, but just because you see ones that look like ones from aboveground doesn't mean anything. I really don't see why that is worth freaking out about." She paused. "Do you know who they belong to or something?

Frisk breathed in and out, forcing herself to calm down. "It wasn't the shoe, Megan. It was the kind of the kind of shoe. It was the brand. Nobody down here is going to end up with a brand of shoes like that." Megan's forehead creased, and Frisk shook her head. "NIKE." She looked down at the carpet, eyes running along the wiggling design that ran across the floor.

How were there shoes from the surface down here? More to the point, what in the world was one doing just lying underneath the Christmas tree in the middle of town. Considering how quickly it had been buried, there was no way it could have been there long when she saw it, meaning it had been abandoned during the blizzard.

It was very unlikely somebody would abandon a shoe during a time like that. Which meant that they had been forced to. She held her hands to her head, trying to fit together the confusing jigsaw puzzle of questions. After a few minutes, she decided that she simply didn't have enough information, and it would be a waste of time to sit and conjecture any longer. So she stood up.

Glancing at the pocket watch that Papyrus had given her for her birthday a year ago, she noted the time at 9:42pm. Considering how she'd left Grillby's at 9, stood for ten minutes or so staring at where the shoe had been, and then walked the five minutes to Sans' house, they'd been here for about half an hour. She glanced to the stairs. Sans and Papyrus hadn't come down yet. She shrugged. Papyrus was probably just super focused on getting his song right, and Sans was… well… Sans.

"Hungry?" she asked Megan, who nodded. Despite his terrible beginnings, Papyrus had gone from one of the worst cooks Frisk had ever laid eyes on to one of the best. She guessed that was what happened when you cooked the same meal four to five times a day, every day, for five years. He also cooked other things during that time, insisting that six meals a day was the proper amount and anybody who argued was dead wrong. All in all, he spent somewhere around 3 to 4 hours every day cooking. With any luck, he'd leftovers in the fridge. He usually did.

"Papyrus," Frisk called up the stairs with a smile, "Megan and I are going to take some of your leftover spaghetti, ok?"

There was the sound of something crashing up in Papyrus' room, and both Megan and Frisk winced. "FRISK! IS THAT YOU? YOU DIDN'T EAT AT WORK?" The door to Papyrus' room came crashing open, and the tall skeleton came bounding down the stairs at breakneck speed to meet them. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? EVEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE PLANING ON COMING OVER! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE? I MADE A NEW DISH! IT'S CALLED LASANGA. UNDYNE TOLD THE GREAT PAPYRSUS THE OTHER DAY THAT IT TASTED DELICIOUS. HE HAS SOME IN THE FRIDGE!"

However, he stopped awkwardly the moment Megan came into view. Then he moved, as he was forced to keep himself from falling the rest of the way down the stairs. "Hello Megan," he said with a softened and awkward voice. It was rather strange, but he always became this way when the girl he assumed to be Sans' showed up. "Sans is in his room. Hasn't come out for hours. He needs to eat. Go get him please." Megan nodded and sprinted up the stairs.

Frisk was thoroughly confused as she watched all of the goings on. Something Papyrus had said was bothering her. He had specifically said that he had no idea she was coming over. But Sans had basically told her that Papyrus was inviting her over. So it shouldn't really have been surprising when she showed up. Weird stuff was always happening at Sans' house though. Best to ignore it.

"A new food?" Frisk said excitedly. "Awesome. I'll heat up the oven." She dashed into the kitchen, and paused. No matter how many times she entered the room, she just couldn't get used to the twenty foot tall kitchen sink. Papyrus had designed it that way so that he could hold his "secret stash" of bones underneath. She'd never bothered to point out that it would be difficult to find a more obvious place than that.

A shiver ran down her spine as she stood there, a reminder that she her body temperature hadn't yet reached its proper heat. It was a good thirty plus degrees colder than normal outside, probably almost -10. "My… uh… bones are rattling."

Papyrus poked his head into the kitchen and looked at her. "NOPE. THE GREAT PAPYRUS CANNOT HEAR YOUR BONES, AND HE HAS EXCELLENT HEARING." Above them, they could hear the sound of Megan pounding on the day, but without any hint of a response. Frisk couldn't help but feel sorry for her friend. Megan was always trying to get closer to Sans', but as far as Frisk could tell, Sans always kept Megan at arm's length.

Turning her attention back to the matter at hand, Frisk turned the dials on the oven. Papyrus opened up the fridge and pulled out his lasagna masterpiece with a smile. "Hand it here," Frisk motioned, slipping on an oven mitt. Papyrus complied and Frisk slid the lasagna into the oven. Answering Papyrus' earlier question, she said. "I didn't eat at work because of the snowstorm. Wanted to get here as quickly as possible."

"Sans! If you do not open this door right now I swear to the gods that I am going to break it down!" Even from the floor below, Frisk was taken aback by the very intensity and volume of the declaration. Papyrus, on the other hand, looked quite impressed.

After double checking to make sure the oven was right, he looked up in the direction of the voice with pride. "SHE IS EVEN LOUDER THAN THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND HE IS LOUD!" At that moment, they could hear the sound Sans's door swinging open, a slight yelp of surprise from Megan, the sound of the door closing again… and then silence.

Papyrus and Frisk looked at each other, headed out of the kitchen, and up the stairs to see what was going on. The upstairs was small. There was a hallway with doors leading to Papyrus' room, Sans' room, and a giant poster of a bone in between. Other than that, the hallway was empty. Megan was nowhere to be seen. "Guess she's in Sans' room now," Frisk said as the two made their way back downstairs to the living room. "Wonder what they're up to."

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS NO IDEA. HE DOESN'T WANT TO HAVE ANY IDEA."

"And he talks in the third person," Frisk said, with a teasing wink. Then she blinked. "Say, Papyrus. You were the one who invited me over for the weekend, right?"

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS DID?" Papyrus pondered. Then he grinned confidently. "YES! OF COURSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS DID! HE HASN'T GONE ON A PLATONIC DATE WITH YOU FOR THREE WHOLE DAYS! DO YOU WANT TO WALK TO THE THEATRE THROUGH A BLIZZARD LIKE TOTALLY AWESOME MONSTERS AND PEOPLE DO?"

Frisk found herself blushing ever so slightly, but she hid it just as quickly as it appeared. She was a master of faking; she could fake this too. After all, platonic dates were platonic. For both of them. She didn't have any feelings for the skeleton. And he didn't have any feelings for her. Life was simpler that way. She didn't have to let anybody in.

"True, we haven't been on a platonic date for a few days," she said, somewhat absentmindedly. Papyrus was acting odd. Well… odder than normal. Or was that just her imagination? It was sometimes hard to tell with him. Hrm. Maybe it ran in the family? As the lasagna heated up, Frisk couldn't help but begin to relax. The smell of Papyrus' cooking always put her into a good mood. It didn't really matter if he was being odder than normal, did it? No need to get bent out of shape from something so unimportant. She'd just roll with it.

"Maybe we should wait until the blizzard stops before going outside?" She glanced out the window as she said it. Her body temperature hadn't recovered fully from the last trek yet.

"NONSENSE! THE EPIC TREK THROUGH A BLIZZARD IS HALF OF THE ADVENTURE, FRISK! YOU DON'T LOOK HALF AS GREAT TREKKING TO A THEATER IN A NOT-A-BLIZZARD, AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS THE VERY DEFINITION OF GREATNESS. THAT IS WHY HE IS KNOWN AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" He held up his hands to the sky now, as if acknowledging the applause of thousands of screaming fans. Fans that clearly only existed in his head.

Frisk chuckled good naturedly. "You are indeed great, Papyrus." Smirking, she decided to play along. "AND YOU MAKE A FINE POINT, GREAT PAPYRUS!" She quickly latched onto his arm and dragged him from the house. There was absolutely no sense in arguing with him at a moment like this. Besides, he had a point. Freezing to death on the way to the theater would most certainly be a crazy adventure.

She did hesitate for a second after throwing the door open and being hit by the snowstorm outside. The temperature drop chilled her straight to the bones. Awesome, the word sarcastically presented itself to her mind, but she pushed it away. She was with Papyrus, and there was no way he would ever allow anything to happen to her.

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Hope you enjoyed. :D If you enjoyed, please send a review to let me know. Reviews mean a lot. :)


	4. Chapter 3: A Brush With Darkness (Frisk)

Welcome to the fourth installment of The Five Year Run, starring Frisk the Undetermined. In this chapter, things begin to take a turn for the worst, as Frisk's well controlled life begins to spiral out of her control. Enjoy.

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 **Chapter 3: A Brush With Darkness**

Unbeknownst to her, Papyrus was a bit taken aback by the sudden departure from his house. He hadn't been planning on leaving _that_ second. Traveling some place through a blizzard rated very high on his coolness scale, but it should still be done with some level of planning. As such, upon ending up outside shivering in the cold, his first thought was to demand they go back inside and put on several layers of super warm clothes. But on second thought, decided against it. There was absolutely no way he was letting Frisk out adventurize him.

The next moment, however, all thoughts of movies, clothing, and even adventures was out of Papyrus' head. If it was possible for a skeleton to turn pale, Papyrus did. Instinctively, his hand tightened on Frisk's. Perhaps a little too much, as she winced in pain. He didn't let up though, pointing quiveringly into the blizzarding darkness with his other hand. "DO YOU SEE IT, FRISK?" He asked, his voice contorting in a mixture of franticness, anxiety, and hope. "ARE YOU SEEING WHAT I AM SEEING?"

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Despite everything else he had done, that one little word more than doubled the gravity of the situation. Papyrus had said "I", something that he had done only once or twice since deciding to call himself The Great Papyrus four years earlier. It had only been during times of deep distress or trouble. That meant that this moment would probably be life-altering.

Frisk peered into the darkness, barely managing to spot something black moving through the snow. "River person?" she wondered aloud. It was hard to make out in the darkness, but he was the only monster she could think of who even resembled the figure. She was getting way too cold. They needed to get inside soon. How long had they been walking?

"NO. THAT'S NOT WHO IT IS." Papyrus said, a cold confidence entering his voice that drastically differed from his usual bizarre self. Did ever monster in the Underworld have some kind of freaking split personality? Not that she was really one to talk. She may have shown only one personality over the last five years, but she still felt the other one was waiting, just underneath the surface.

Then Papyrus did something that Frisk was in no way ready for, he took off at a sprint towards the black monster. What the heck was going on? She found herself bumping her feet against rocks and roots, as she was pulled alone, unable to quite keep up with the rushing skeleton. However fast they moved, however, the being in front of them seemed just as far away. It almost seemed as if he was taunting them.

As Papyrus stopped, breathing heavily, so did the black figure. It turned slowly in their direction, and Frisk's eyes widened in shock. It was another skeleton! As far as she'd learned, from her hundred journeys, there were only two, Sans and Papyrus. Yet here in front of her, one was looking directly at them. The skeleton wore a suit coat, and had two massive cracks in his skull. One ran from the top of his left eye to the top of his head, and the other from below his right eye down to his mouth. As soon as it locked eyes with Frisk, it vanished as if it had never been there.

"FATHER!" Papyrus screamed from beside her, reaching out his hand to where the skeleton had been a matter of seconds before.

What? Sans and Papyrus had a father? That was the first thought to enter Frisk's head, and she immediately felt stupid for it. Of _course_ , they had a father. They didn't just magically appear out of thin air one day. It's just… they'd never once mentioned him. And… why did he just disappear into the air like that?

Brr… Her thoughts were interrupted by a violent shivering spell "Papyrus," she said fretfully, "I hate to interrupt you at a time like this, but I can't just stand out here in the snow." Leaving the house in her current apparel had been a terrible idea. She was still wearing the t-shirt and short skirt. Sure she was wearing a shawl over top of them, but it wasn't doing much to keep out the cold. "We can either go to the movies or back to the house, but if we stay out here I might literally die."

Not that she was afraid of dying. She'd done it so many times it didn't really scare her anymore. It's just, she hadn't been filled with determination for a long time, and she had absolutely no idea how far back she'd end up going. _That_ concerned her.

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Papyrus immediately snapped back to the present and glanced around, eyes darting in all directions. He was not familiar with this part of town, and it didn't help that the blizzard seemed to have picked up in intensity. Visibility was near zero in this weather. Rushing off and paying no attention to what twists and turns they'd taken, that had been a really bad idea. Something that should have been beneath a skeleton like himself. He shivered, and his mind went into overdrive mode. He was freezing, which was very bad news. Because if he was unable to handle the weather _without_ skin…

There was no time to be picky. Papyrus raced over to one of the buildings nearby and kicked the door ferociously. After several hits, the door burst open. Then he pulled Frisk inside. After closing the door again, he sat down and began to think. Despite never finding his dad's body, Papyrus had come to accept that his father was dead. The man had disappeared hundreds of years ago, for crying out loud. Yet there was absolutely no denying that that was who they had been chasing.

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Cold… Too cold… Frisk collapsed to the ground next to Papyrus and closed her eyes. Although it was much warmer in here than it had been outside, it was still probably barely above zero in here. The building looked, and smelled, abandoned. It was unlikely anybody had been there in years. "I guess we can spend the rest of the storm in here. That enough of an adventure for you, Papyrus?"

As far as she could tell, the building was completely empty. Not only was there no furniture, but there was also no equipment, storage, anything. The floor was nice wood paneling though, and it still looked that way. Whenever, or for whatever, reason this had been built, it had been built with expertise.

"So, that's your dad, huh?" Frisk said, rolling onto her side and looking at Papyrus. "Kinda a bizarre skeleton. Like father like son I guess?" No response. That was odd. Sitting up and turning to face Papyrus, she realized that he was deep in thought. Wracking her brain, she couldn't think of any other time she'd seen him so… thoughtful. Better not to interrupt him.

Standing up, Frisk turned the other direction and stared into the building's vast interior. It was gigantic, probably factory size at least, and she couldn't see all the way to the back. It was way too dark. To be honest, it was unsettling. She'd gone through the history, and blueprints, of Snowdin on a number of occasions while at the library.

Call her paranoid, but she didn't want anything to be able to surprise her. Now that strategy was doing exactly the opposite. According to all the research she'd done, a building like this had never been built in Snowdin. "Uh… Papyrus?" She asked uneasily, "do you have any idea where we are?" Still no response. "Hello? Papyrus?"

She turned back to the darkness, and felt an unshakable urge to go deeper in. It was similar to the emotion that had kept her going time and time again during her runs. Curiosity. _Killed the cat_. The words popped into her head unbidden. And it had killed her more times than she could count. But she was immortal. And she wasn't going to leave anything in Snowdin unexplained. Well… besides Sans' house.

Turning back to Papyrus, Frisk opened her mouth to ask him to come with her. He still had that look in his eyes though, as if his mind were a thousand miles away. She didn't need him. The building may be crazy to most, but she'd had to deal with Flowey so many times that nothing really scared her anymore. Hopefully there were no monsters inside. If she ended up having to fight… She shuddered.

It was dark, but due to the time spent in the front of the building, Frisk's eyes adjusted rather quickly. She put her hand against one of the walls and slowly began to make her way into the darkness. Irony, her life seemed so full of it. The whole reason she'd ended up alone, wandering into the mysterious darkness, was because she had decided to go over to Sans' house. And she had decided to go to Sans's house _because_ she hadn't wanted to be alone.

The further Frisk walked, the more eerie the building seemed to be. How long had she been walking now? Her hand reached into her pocket and gripped the pocket watch. She couldn't really see well enough to tell what was on it, but just holding it in her hand made her feel a little better.

There was nothing, anywhere. Just continuous floor and walls leading to who knows where. To be honest, it felt more like an enormous tunnel than any kind of building. Up ahead, far in the distance, a very faint light began to come into view. Light at the end of a massive building? Unless this really was a tunnel. Weirder things had happened in the Underworld.

Despite the bizarreness, Frisk would have smiled at the appearance of light except for an uneasy feeling she couldn't shake that seemed to have come along with it. She no longer felt like she was alone. She was being watched.

Frisk's first thought was the Temmies, a strange cat creature who wore "shirts" and had hair like humans. They enjoyed hiding in the dark and staring at people. Issue was, they were pranksters, good-natured ones. And whatever was watching her seemed to be radiating hostility. She'd had the experience way too many times to misread it.

Usually, it was Flowey. A pain-in-her-butt flower that liked to pretend it was all that. The two of them had killed each other many times over since they'd met on her first run. He enjoyed stalking her, watching from the shadows. However, if she turned around fast enough, she often managed to get a glimpse of him before he disappeared. She jerked around, and yelled out into the darkness. "FLOWEY!" …but there was no Flowey. There was no anybody.

That was when things got scary, even for Frisk. The entrance was no longer visible, and on quick glance, neither were the walls, or the floor. She was literally standing in empty darkness, black everywhere around her except for the light in the distance beckoning her forwards. She'd been in a situation like this a million times before, if this was supposed to be The Void. But that always had an opponent, and she still didn't see one.

No, this was still the Underworld. It would have been a lonely feeling, if not for the sinister presence. This was probably the one time in her life when she wished that was alone. There was no way out of this situation though. Going way into the darkness was a bad idea. The only thing to do was continue towards the light.

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Within the gravity defying house, the girl was smiling. It appeared as if her many years of patience were finally beginning to pay off. _Try as you might, you cannot win. I know the darkness inside of you far better than even you do. There is no escape. It's game over, Frisk._ The girl thought the words with a creepy, unsettling grin crossing her face. Her red eyes flashed with excitement.

She hadn't just rested during those years either. She'd also spent quite a lot of her time training. She was far stronger than she had been the last time she and Frisk had spoken. She knew that she would need to be, if she was ever going to get Frisk back under her control. The way she was speaking now, directly into the subconscious mind, would come across as nothing more than a prompting feeling to Frisk's conscious one. "Deeper. You have to go deeper."

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As she continued walking, Frisk began to wonder if continuing forward was any better of an idea than going back had been. Then again, if both of them possessed the same amount of danger, she would rather face it in the light than in the dark. For now, all she could do was keeping going deeper. Although the light was growing, it was doing so slowly, and Frisk began to wonder if it would take her years to reach it.

That wasn't the most disconcerting thing though. That would be the darkness. As in, the darkness around the light. Despite the growth of the light, the area remained just as dark and empty. A few steps closer, and Frisk began to hear something. After the silence that had haunted her for the last… hour? day? week? She'd long ago lost track of time. It was quiet, barely loud enough to even be noticeable, but any sound at all felt good. She instantly started sprinting towards the light.

As the sound grew to a perceivable volume, Frisk began to realize what it was. Voices, familiar voices. But they were still too quiet to discern. Were the voices coming from inside or without? Was she almost out of the tunnel and back to the Underground? She ran faster, her heart beating stronger and stronger. It was almost over. Soon she'd be back in Snowdin, back to her world, her friends, her family. "Everything will be ok," she told herself as she reached the light.

The light was probably the weirdest thing Frisk had ever seen, and she'd seen quite a lot. It appeared to have come straight out of some sort of fantasy novel. There was simply this small sphere of light, not much larger than a baseball, hovering in the air in front of her. The voices inside the ball were unmistakable now.

One was Sans, beyond a shadow of a doubt. And even though his voice was coming from inside a tiny hovering ball, just hearing it was enough to relieve her tension. The other was kinda weird. It seemed to be Flowey, but something was unmistakably off about his voice.

Frisk sighed. She had done such a good job of establishing a routine, of removing everything that could be dangerous. She'd felt so empowered, so in control. Now everything was haywire. She glanced back the way she'd come. Darkness. She glanced around, and it was the same on all sides of her. The only thing here was the sphere. Well, there wasn't anything else she could do. Reluctantly, Frisk reached out and touched the light.

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The light at the end of the tunnel. The weird circle. A mysterious visitor. Darkness, lots and lots of darkness. And Chara begins to act once more. 3:) Hope you enjoyed. If you did, please review and let me know. ^_^


	5. Chapter 4: A Blast From The Past (Frisk)

Last we saw our beloved Frisk the Undetermined, she had just stumbled through a dark void into a sphere of golden light. What waits for her beyond the glow? What sort of mysteries is she about to uncover? Only time will tell.

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 **Chapter 4: A Blast From The Past**

Frisk's eyes widened as she looked around her. This was a castle. She could see that just by looking around. Stone walls. But this was not an old dilapidated castle. It was like a mega futuristic one. There were fancy test pipes running all over the place, coming down from the ceiling and up from the floor. It would have been hard to move without bumping into one of them, they covered so much of the room. There were also tables and desks coating over half of the room, with hundreds of different chemical potions on each.

In a corner of the room, Frisk noticed Sans talking to somebody she had seen thousands of times in pictures at her house. Toriel's son by birth, Asriel. This realization threw her mind into a flurry. Asriel was dead. Had died hundreds of years ago. So either she had stepped into an alternate dimension, or she'd stepped back in time!

"You'll never guess what my dad is going to do next," Sans whispered to Asriel, like some kind of conspiratorial spy. He looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen him, except for one shocking difference. He was smiling, and not his natural fake smile. This was a genuine, 'I'm happy to be alive. Isn't the world wonderful?' smile. "He's developing a portal to another dimension!"

Perhaps this was a memory, Frisk pondered as she weaved her way through the pipe maze. Sure she hadn't lived through any of it, but she'd learned long ago that Chara's memories had mixed in with her own. In that case, this was quite possibly a Chara memory. Well, except for the fact that the terrifying girl was nowhere to be seen. A quick glance around the room confirmed this. Chara wasn't there.

"A portal to another dimension," Asriel asked incredulously. Frisk paused and looked at the goat kid with a raised eyebrow. So… he was the voice that she had heard from outside of the sphere. His voice did sound quite a bit like the infuriating flower. That was interesting, but hardly important information. She dismissed it. "Not sure he can even do it, but even if he could… _Why_?"

"Well, he figures it's the best way to get out from underground," Sans said with excitement. "He says that if the humans don't want us to go aboveground, we really don't need to. All we gotta do is find a different place to go."

Finally, Frisk arrived at the two kids. During the entire trek, they hadn't even looked at her once. She'd been moving quietly though, so that might explain it. "Spoiler alert, it doesn't work." As she said this, she stepped between the two monsters, and looked Sans straight in the face. "And nothing matters. You've told me so yourself."

"So what's it going to look like?" Asriel asked, curiously.

Wait, what? She was standing between the two of them, and they were ignoring her?

Asriel leaned forward, right through her back, so that he was right by Sans' ear. "Is it gonna be some epic circular doorway with wavy blue air that you can walk through?"

Frisk gave a yipe as she watched the head appear through her chest, and instantly jumped out of the way. Apparently, she was just a shadow here.

"It's going to have to be absolutely gigantic," Sans said, proudly, as if he were building it himself. "We tried building one, not much bigger than your dad, back in Dad's Snowdin lab. Didn't work." He looked a little disappointed at having to admit this embarrassing failure. "But we figured out the problem was the size. Instead it's going to need to be bigger than _this_!" As he spoke, he stretched his arms out as far as they would go. He looked down at it with displeasure. "A lot bigger than that, actually."

That was when things took a turn for the worse, or at least for the bizarre. The really, really, really bizarre. The door to the room swung open, and the girl that haunted Frisk's dreams came rushing into the room. Chara, the violent, bloodthirsty sadist beast in human skin. Only, she didn't look anything like the girl that Frisk remembered. Well, not quite true. The skin was the same. The red eyes were the same. The brown hair was the same. There was no way it wasn't Chara. Yet, those similarities were where the resemblance ended.

This Chara was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes full of mischief, excitement and… love. But not the horrible Level of Violence kind of love the Chara Frisk knew was obsessed with. This was genuine, good-natured, emotionally unstable love. This Chara wore a pink shoulderless ball gown that went from shortly above her chest to shortly below her knees. She spun in a circle, laughing good-naturedly, her red eyes sparkling.

Frisk simply stared, stunned. She found herself slightly grateful that she couldn't be seen, because staring open mouthed at a girl five years her junior would not have looked good no matter where she was. Yet, she couldn't tear her eyes away. This young girl, sweet, innocent, and charming was the demon of death that she'd been battling for so many years? She was almost as different as… Her eyes darted over to Sans for a second, before going right back to Chara. If this was the past… She wasn't sure she wanted to know what had happened to them.

Then Chara blushed and leaned back against the wall, clearly attempting to get into a cool pose. It was pretty effective. "Sans? Bro?" She looked at the two of them with a suspicious twinkle in her eyes. "What mischief are the two of you up to tonight?" The two of them instantly silenced, looking like two spies who had just been caught by the enemy.

"Hey… Chara," Sans said, blushing awkwardly at the sight of the beautiful girl. "We… um… uh… Nothing."

"Good." She quickly strode over to Sans, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet. Asriel quickly scrambled up next to them. "There's a party going on out there." She kissed him quickly on the cheek. "And you are going to be my dance partner." Sans didn't even have time to respond as he was pulled from the room. Asriel glanced around for a second, and then took off after them.

Kissed. Chara. Kissed. Sans. Had he known? She had to fight rather hard to keep the memory of her final battle with Sans out of her head. That question wouldn't leave though. Had he known Chara was there when he'd fought her? And if so, did he know what had caused Chara to change?

After standing there blankly for a moment, Frisk breathed in and focused. Whatever she was doing here, there had to be a point and a purpose. The sphere couldn't have been something that she had just happened to stumble upon. Things like that didn't happen in the Underworld. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" She yelled out, hoping that whoever, or whatever, had brought her here would respond. But she was met with only silence.

Actually, silence wasn't quite right. Because as she stood their waiting for an answer, she could hear the sounds of a party in the distance. A party. Never once had a party been thrown during her entire time in the Underworld. And this didn't sound like a simple party, either. Rather, it sounded like a massive celebration. The number of monsters had to be in the hundreds, at least.

Where was the resignation she'd gotten so used to seeing buried in everybody's eyes. They laughed, joked, played, lived relatively happy lives. But deep in every monster was that longing they knew would never be satisfied. To see the world that their ancestors had been driven from, to see the place where they knew they truly belong. Above ground.

Here, it was completely nonexistent. I mean, they were throwing a freakin' celebration! Sans so hopeful, Chara so adorable, the monster populace celebrating. The more she learned the more she began to wonder if she'd stepped into some whacked out other dimension. Surely the world _couldn't_ have been like this at one point?

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Inside her physics defying house, the girl was no longer leaning back nonchalantly. The show had taken an unexpected turn, and she was not happy. Quite the opposite actually. She was ticked off. She was now sitting up, her hands balled into fists, glaring at the world that she saw through Frisk's eyes.

How dare the world return her to this moment! The goal was to erase the Underworld; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Forget all the blasted nonsense, and eliminate all of the infuriating memories. And this moment was high on the list of ones she wanted gone. But here it was, in front of her once again.

Was it not enough to steal her victory at the very moment she'd thought she had finally won? Now it wanted her to relive one of her most hated experiences. She hissed in irritation. No matter what happened, she would make sure that the person responsible for this burned. Everything would burn. And then the moments like this would finally disappear forever.

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Frisk found herself unsure how to proceed. The human version of Chara had shaken her up more than she cared to admit. And all the joy coming from the party, how exactly was she supposed to respond to that? This wasn't the Underworld that she was familiar with, and it unnerved her. That was a feeling that she wasn't familiar with, and didn't like. It sounded… unstable. And she was terrified of being unstable.

As her thoughts ran around in their crazy circles, Frisk absent-mindedly moved her hand in and out of the semi-opened door in front of her. It was a reminder that she wasn't actually here, wherever here was. Considering how she was in the room by herself, she found it somewhat doubtful that it was a memory. Whatever it was, though, she clearly wasn't a part of this world. That meant, at least for the moment, that she was safe, right?

The door swung open the rest of the way rather suddenly, and Frisk jumped back out of habit. In the hallway stood a girl who looked quite similar to how Megan had back when Frisk had first met her five years earlier. The two of them had barely been thirteen at the time. There was one major difference between Megan and this girl, though. She looked eerie, unreal, as if she had stumbled out of the screen of a black and white film. It was as if all color had been drained away, not only from her clothes, but from her body as well.

"Why are you just standing here, Frisk?" The grey, young Megan asked as she looked at Frisk with a mixture of confusion and impatience. "You know the way. Head to Chara's room. There is something there that you need to see." Then she stepped through the hallway wall and vanished, leaving Frisk staring blankly behind her.

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Her room? The girl was no longer sitting on her course, but rather pacing back and forth furiously. No way, no how were they going back there in THIS time period. She knew what Frisk would find there, what she would see there. And there was nothing in the world she wanted to forget about more. Nothing… That left only one option, but it wasn't much better. It felt a bit like having to choose between death by hanging or death by acid. Hanging would be far less painful than watching your flesh dissolve, but that didn't mean it would feel pleasant. Not in the least.

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"Wait-" Frisk called out immediately after her bearings returned, but of course, Ghost Megan was long gone by then. She sighed and stepped towards the door. _Go to the ball_. Her subconscious urged her. _You need to go to the ball. Follow Sans_. Frisk held her hand to her head, pushing the thoughts from it. She needed to think. Didn't want to go to Chara's room. She'd worked so hard to forget all of that, push it deep down where it could never bother her again. Plus, heading to Chara's room might be all that was needed to reawaken Chara.

 _You must follow the kids. They are the reason that you are here._ No, Frisk decided, glancing in the direction of Chara's room. There was no way she was going there. But Ghost Megan, she was the only one who could see her. Maybe, she should listen to… _You cannot trust ghosts._ The subconscious thought interrupted her reasonings. _Do not forget about Chara. You cannot trust spirits. All they want to do is use you._

Frisk glanced once more down each path. She had to follow the kids. They were the reason she was here, after all. Making a decision based on a spirit was foolish. It was the whole reason she had never been able to succeed in any of her runs. If she had time afterwards, she would investigate Chara's room. For now though, she had more important things to deal with.

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Chara smiled.

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Frisk found herself meandering down hallway after hallway. It was kind of eerie. No matter where she turned, no matter where she looked, the parts of the castle she traveled through remained empty. She never even saw a single guard. Was the party truly so massive that it would have been unfair to let the guards work during it? Or was it just that the monsters were so happy right now that they were blind to how stupid dangerous that was? These questions were quickly dismissed as Frisk settled into a relative state of unease.

In all but one of her runs, monsters had approached her here and told her sad stories about how the Underworld was doomed. She couldn't take more than a few steps without being interrupted. Even during the run where she'd killed everybody… She shivered at the memory, Even then, Flowey had interrupted her. Most of what she knew about Flowey's sad story had been told while walking down these hallways. It was why she had taken to calling this place The Passage of Sorrows. It was quite unnerving to wander down it following _happy_ sounds.

There was more that bothering her though. She'd been to the future. She'd seen how things ended up, and was afraid that she hadn't come here simply to see some sort of party. Typically these time travel experiences had a purpose. Not that she'd experience any herself… or knew anybody who had actually… but in the novels she'd read that was _always_ the case.

Besides, she did know from experience that terrible things always followed cheerful things. Good cheerful moments like this were meant to lure her into a false sense of security. She'd learned that the hard way, having fallen prey to it a number of occasions throughout her runs. With a reluctant sigh, she glanced back in the direction she had come, and froze.

There was a fog so dark that she couldn't see anything on the other side of it. Just like Ghost Megan, it felt like it had been deprived of color. It was an odd feeling to get when looking at fog, but it was there nonetheless. It looked quite ominous, probably best to be avoided. At least for the moment, Chara's room was completely inaccessible. That was a little disconcerting. Well, when one couldn't go back, it was best to keep going forward. So Frisk turned around and continued walking towards the party.

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Chara's smile had quickly evaporated as they got closer and closer to the ballroom. She didn't want to go to the party anymore. Sure, she still didn't want to go to her room, but she found herself agreeing with her earlier comparison. It was like walking towards a hanging, only… this would hurt way, way more.

She remembered this night too well. It was the beginning of the end, the day that everything she'd spent three years building up had come crumbling to the ground. Every terrible moment in her life since that day had been a result of what happened inside the ballroom. Step. Step. Step. Inch by inch, Frisk got closer. If she had any tears left, Chara felt she would be crying now.

"Stop…" She thought the words pleadingly, though she dared not speak them aloud. "Please… I don't want to be back here. I don't want to have to live through this." Erase the underground. Erase the memories. That was the goal, the plan, the mission. Not… Revisit. But inch by inch, second by second, Chara knew. There was no going back. It was happening, again.

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I hope you enjoyed the latest entry in the adventure. If you enjoyed, please send me a review to let me know what you thought. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones


	6. Chapter 5: The Ballroom (Frisk)

When we last left our beloved Frisk, she was trapped in the past trying to figure out what her point and purpose were in being there. Step by step, she was getting closer to the dark mystery that Chara feared so much. Everything is about to change. Be ready.

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 **Chapter 5: The Ballroom**

Frisk arrived at a massive doorway, clearly designed so that even some of the larger monsters could fit through it. She'd never even seen this part of the palace before, but there was absolutely no doubt. The music and merrymaking was coming from the other side. For a moment, she found herself hesitating. She could still turn back, right? She glanced behind her at the threatening fog. Or, well, she could always just stay right here. She didn't have to go inside. Didn't have to see whatever anguish was no doubt waiting for her on the other side of the door. No. That wasn't an option. When one couldn't go back, they had to go forward. Swallowing, she pushed open the doors.

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Chara wouldn't let herself be taken in. Wouldn't let her mind lose control. Her secrecy inside of Frisk's head couldn't handle such pathetic instability. Tipping Frisk off to her reawakening at this point would screw up all of her plans. So as uneasy as she felt, she forced her signature smile to return. It was impossible to remove it from her eyes though. Just a few more minutes, the seconds counting down one by one in her head, until the tragedy would occur that had changed everything.

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The room was a flurry of excitement, happiness, joy. There were splashes of color everywhere, moving around in a flowing beautiful motion. They were dancing, doing nothing but dancing. It only took a second or two to catch sight of Sans and Chara. The girl was laughing, _laughing!_ And in such an innocent and sweet way. It still didn't compute in her head. The girl in front of her simply could not be the same one who had convinced her that killing everybody was the way to go. It simply didn't make any sense.

Chara spun around, and Sans lifted her into the air, a brilliant and blinding smile on his face. Then blood, his body covered in blood. She choked, rubbed her eyes, and he was back ton normal. Slowly lowering Chara the beautiful to the ground. Frisk turned away from that couple, feeling like she was going to puke. Why did she have to visit the Underworld when she had? That wasn't fair! If she'd arrived here then everything would have been different.

There would have been no Flowey. No genocide. No runs. No despair. No reason to lose hope. She could have laughed with Sans and been friends with Chara. Instead, she had to arrive at some unknown later time when hell had clearly taken over.

As this thought ran through her head, another one intercepted it. What exactly were they celebrating? I mean, everybody seemed to be in such high spirits. She spotted the guards, dancing and moving in the crowds. I mean, they were still trapped underground. They were in the palace after all. Clearly they couldn't leave… but now they were partying anyways. Considering the situation was the same as always, it begged a simple question. Why were the monsters seemingly ok with it during this party, when they clearly were _not_ during her time?

And then there was the other issue. This was a _party!_ Everybody was having a good time. There appeared to be anything at all to be concerned about. For a third time, she glanced back towards Chara's room. The grey mist had stopped approaching at the doors to the ballroom. Apparently there was no leaving the room…which meant that she was supposed to be seeing something here.

Around her, monsters were munching on food, eating pie, talking, and laughing. Periodically, some audacious male would walk up to one of the females and ask her out onto the dance floor. More often than not, the girl agreed, and Frisk found the small crowd of eaters consistently shrinking while the part of the room that constituted the dance floor grew progressively larger. Soon, only three remained; an adolescent werewolf girl in a long blue gown, a girl who looked like a younger version of Grillby, and a large duck similar to the one she'd ridden periodically in her runs.

"Hey, Red!" A voice that carried a clear western accent reached her ears. "I was wondering if you would care for a dance." Frisk assumed he was talking to the flame girl, and watched to see her reaction. But the girl didn't bother to react. She simply continued chatting with the werewolf girl as if nobody had said anything! How rude.

"It would be impolite for a gentleman like myself to ignore such a beautiful girl standing all alone at a ball." Frisk's face instantly crinkled in confusion. The girl may not have been with a guy, but she was _clearly_ not alone. Maybe there was a reason flame girl was ignoring the guy. The was about to turn around and see who it was, when… "Red, will you give me the honor of this dance?" And a hand was set on Frisk's shoulder.

Her heart froze. Who? What? How? It then proceeded to start beating really fast as she reached up and gently pushed the hand off of her shoulder. It moved. Ever so slowly, Frisk turned around. She wasn't sure what she expected to see, but considering where she was, her chest felt somewhat knotted. She was just a little bit terrified.

The dude was a human. That was the first thing that entered Frisk's head. This person standing in front of her was beyond a shadow of a doubt, human. The second was his outfit. He was by no means dressed as if he were going to a ball. Rather, he was dressed like his destination was a rodeo. He looked like a cowboy who had jumped stepped out of the Wild West. Cowboy hat planted firmly on his head, jacket, pants, boots. Heck, he even had the pistol at his side.

Her mind then looped back around to the initial dilemma. He was looking straight at her. She tilted her head to the side and watched his eyes follow it. There was no denying it. He'd touched her, and he was looking at her. A quick glance around the room made it clear that he was just as invisible as she was. So, was he a ghost like the Megan she'd met earlier? If so, he was quite a bit less creepy. Plus, he still had color. His entire outfit was bright yellow after all.

The cowboy tilted his head as she had done a couple of seconds ago. "You are Red, are you not?" He motioned towards her chest a couple of times, as if that was somehow supposed to explain what in the world he was talking about. She glanced down at her chest though, and saw absolutely _nothing_ red there.

With raised eyebrows, and an perplexed look on her face, Frisk replied. "Who _are_ you?"

He chuckled in response. "Not too bizarre that you wouldn't recognize me in this body." Like that was supposed to make any sense at all. And it sounded like, super creepy. Had she seen him in a different one or something? The cowboy smiled a winning smile, and extended his hand. "I'm Yellow. It's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you like this."

"Yellow…?" That was a nam…? Her eyes darted down to her chest and then back up to the cowboy. "Red… OH!" Realization dawned in her eyes. "OH! SOULS! YELLOW SOUL!" Her eyes instantly darted to the cowboy hat and the gun. How had she not noticed that before? She'd used both of those items countless times in her runs. She'd also gotten help from him many times while fighting Demon Flowey at the end of most of them. 'Course she'd only seen him as a yellow heart with a cowboy silhouette at the time.

"What in the world are you doing here in person? Why do you have your body?" She paused, glanced around, and whispered. "Not to be offensive or anything, but shouldn't you be in Asgore's capsule thingy?" She found herself wondering how well he remembered the runs. Clearly he remembered something, because he'd recognized her. "Why are you here?"

Yellow simply smiled a good natured, yet nonetheless slightly irritating, smile. "No spoilers. You'll find out for yourself soon enough." He glanced back out at the ballroom, and moved his stretched out hand ever so slightly so that Frisk's attention was drawn back to it. "I came to offer you a dance." He bowed his head. "Will you do me the honor?"

Frisk's eyes darted back to the party. Her eyes locked once more onto Sans and Chara, dancing happily in what she appeared to be a monster dance style semi-similar to the waltz. As she looked at them, it struck her that her original assumption seemed a bit off. Sans didn't look any younger physically. That was true enough. But that didn't mean he didn't appear younger. The weight she'd gotten so used to seeing in his eyes, never completely hidden behind his laziness and bad jokes, simply wasn't there. Without that weight, he seemed far younger.

It begged a question. She'd always believed his nihilistic tendencies were simply a result of the knowledge that time kept resetting. She winced at the thought, as she did every time it came up. She was in a large part responsible for those. Standing in this ballroom, unable to leave, she began to wonder if there was more to it than that. Perhaps the reason she was here was to learn a little bit about what turned Chara and Sans from THIS to… the ones she knew.

She had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment though, so she turned her attention back to the yellow soul. She doubted his name was actually 'Yellow' any more than her name was actually 'Red'. His story was unbelievably fishy. "So you somehow managed to escape Asgore's soul container, despite not being able to do it for… how many hundreds of years? Regained the ability to use your body, or at least a ghost-like version of it. And then ended up… wherever we are now. And you are telling me you did it, _just_ to ask me for a dance?"

The yellow soul was silent, and appeared to be deep in thought as he listened to Frisk's long-winded question. Concluding that he wasn't going to say anything, she took his hand. "Sure I'll dance with you. My name is Frisk, by the way. I'd really prefer not being called 'Red'." It was only after she said this that she saw him close him mouth. She instantly reprimanded herself. He'd been about to tell her something!

Apparently her acceptance to dance with him had changed his mind however, as he escorted her out to the dance floor without another word. Considering how they could simply move through the other dancers, they soon ended up in the middle. That was when Yellow stopped and turned back to her.

He reached out and set one of his hands on her shoulder, the other on her waste. "Considering your mother was Toriel, I assume you know at least one kind of dance." He motioned to Toriel and Asgore, dancing nearby them, in a crazy elaborate tango/cha cha combination. "She was always the life of the party, or so I've heard. Which do you know?"

Frisk didn't answer at first. She was a little overwhelmed by all of this. Yellow was absolutely _nothing_ like she'd expected the yellow soul of Justice to be. On second thought, people probably would think the same thing about her if they found out that _she_ was the red soul of Determination.

Plus, she hadn't ever really stopped to wonder what the souls had been like before Asgore captured them. It was rather embarrassing to admit, but she'd thought little about them. She'd just accepted that they were helping her to fight Flowey without a second thought about who they were as a person. The sort of thing Chara would do…

She shuddered at the thought, and once more pushed Demon Chara from her mind. "I know the waltz best," she said with confidence. She followed this up with uncertainty. "What in the world are you doing here, really? And why do you keep calling me 'Red'? Do you have a weird habit of just calling humans by their soul color or something?"

"There are rules to follow, Red. Ancient rules that have been around as long as the barrier that keeps the monsters in the Underworld. I, for one, am not going to break them. After what happened to Gaster, anybody who attempts to follow his example would have to be more than just an idiot. They'd have to be totally insane. So, I am Yellow, you are Red, and the others are Orange, Green, Light Blue, Blue, and Purple." His eyes darkened. "That's what we are all going to be calling you, and what you are going to be calling us in return. For your own sake."

He glanced towards the door and frowned at the fog. "You really should have gone to Chara's room, Red. We suspected you wouldn't, but life would have been so much simpler if you had. So much could have been avoided." He sighed and shook his head. "You should have gone to the bedroom."

That was it. Frisk had had enough of his cryptic remarks. She broke out of the dance, and crossing her arms. She frowned at him, attempting to look as determined as she could. The soul of determination _attempting_ to look determined… How pathetic was that? "Look, 'yellow' or whatever your name really is, You obviously know what is going on here. I want to too. I'm not dancing with you, or doing anything else, until you tell me what you are attempting to hide!"

Yellow sighed and stepped back. He frowned, as if searching for the right words to say in response. He'd already told her that he wasn't going to be giving any spoilers, but Frisk was determined to make him give her _something_. When he spoke, it was with a rather peculiar statement. "Chara is upset."

Frisk's eyes instantly darted out to the dance floor, and she frowned in bewilderment. Chara was laughing, just as she had been doing the last time Frisk had looked out there. She wasn't… unless… no… he couldn't mean… She fiercely shoved the thought from her mind. She turned back to where Yellow had been standing, but he was no longer there. Her eyes darted around, and then she spotted him standing next to the ominous fog.

"You chose the wrong path, Red, and your options are going to make things far, far worse. Watch your back. Your creepy, smiling friend will return, and things are going to get far, far worse." Then he turned around abruptly and strode confidently into the mist, disappearing from view.

Then, an eerie unsettling sound echoed out of the darkness. It sounded like a cry of despair. Frisk was about to call out and make sure Yellow as ok, when she realized that the figures around her had stopped dancing. Instead, all of the monsters were staring in the direction of the ballroom doors. Whoever had made the sound _WASN'T_ Yellow. Something was very, very wrong.

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Frisk wasn't taking it well at all. Her heart started beating fast, and her eyes darted back and forth, back and forth. The apprehension and fear had instantaneously taken over the face of every single monster. The music had shut off. This was more the kind of emotion that Frisk was used to, but witnessing the sudden drop in mood from heaven to hell was throwing her mental instability all over the place. In any other situation, this would have been the perfect time for Chara to take back over. It was what she had been waiting for for five years.

Unfortunately, her mind was not on manipulation at this moment. The appearance of the yellow soul was a very upsetting development, and he was right. She was upset, VERY upset. Worse though, she knew exactly what was happening. She knew what was on the other side of the door. This was that moment when heaven and hell switched places, when the dark side of the Underworld began to take control. It had never let go. And nobody had been more victimized as a result of it than her.

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"WHAT'S THE HECK IS GOING ON!?" Frisk screamed at the top of her lungs. She wasn't quite sure what she was expecting. Maybe that if she screamed loud enough the monsters would be able to hear her? Maybe Yellow or Ghost Megan would return? Perhaps the person who had sent her here would finally reveal himself. What she got was nothing, from anybody. No response.

Then a small group of monsters stepped out of the fog. These were clearly from the other dimension, though, as the monsters in the room stared at them in a short of shocked silence. They walked in a straight line, solemnly, silently, faces low. At the back of the pack came another young version of Megan, this one in a lab coat, and with biological arms. Frisk knew who it was instantly, Megan's _much_ older sister, Alphys. Beside Alphys, a child version of Papyrus walked. They would have looked far more adorable, however, if both of them didn't have tears streaming down their faces.

Frisk swallowed, eyes locked on Papyrus. He looked so broken, so shattered. She'd always felt that there was something painful behind Papyrus' stupidity. She'd suspected for a long time that he was a lot brighter than he pretended, that it was merely his coping mechanism, as corny jokes and nihilism were Sans'. If that was true, _this_ was the pain that he was attempting to hide not only from the world, but from himself.

She found herself walking step by step towards what looked to be a funeral procession, despite the fact that there didn't appear to be a jar for ash _or_ a coffin. She reached out for Papyrus, but her hand went right through him. Swearing under her breath, Frisk began to move her hands in and out of young Papyrus repeatedly. There had been a time when she could keep her cool in any situation, but that had changed after the genocide attack. That was the first time she had ever felt… powerless.

Toriel and Asgore made their way through the crowd, everybody moving aside numbly as they did so. Asriel, Chara, and Sans were right behind them. The first person to speak was Sans, and he sounded frantic. "Pap? Alphys? Where's Gaster? Where is my dad?"

Frisk nearly choked. The pain in his eyes, the worry. She'd seen it once before, during her countless battles at the end of genocide. It was one of the things she'd been running from the most. Why did she have to end up here? Why did she keep ending up in places like this, powerless to do anything to fix the situation, nothing more than a spectator to other people's pain. It wasn't fair…

 _Father_. He'd said Father. And called him Gaster? But, she glanced at the funeral procession in bewilderment. She'd seen him in the snowstorm during _her_ time though. There was no way he could be…

"Gone," Alphys said, choking out the words and staring at the ground, unable to look up. "He's gone, Sans." Sans' froze as a look of grief took over his face. Beside him, clearly at a loss for words, Chara squeezed tighter on Sans' hand. She appeared to be sending him a message, probably that she was there for him. Asriel tried to step forward, but was stopped by hands set on his shoulder. One from Toriel, and the other from Asgore.

"Gone," Papyrus repeated. He said it in a somewhat hollow tone, as if his mind wasn't all the way there. As if… he hadn't allowed himself to come to terms with the truth. And he never would, Frisk thought to herself, as she looked at him. Several hundred years later, he still hadn't come to terms with it. "Something went wrong, and he was just… gone."

Gone. That was a relatively strange way to put it. Four times in a row. Didn't they mean dead? Or did he really just up and disappear into thin air? Her mind began to cycle through everything that she had just seen and learned, attempting to find the logic in all of this chaos.

Gaster was Papyrus' and Sans' father who had disappeared about eight hundred years ago. Yellow also mentioned him being a bad example, not sticking to some universal "rules" like using colors instead of names. Or was it a different one that he had broken? That had actually been unclear now that she thought about it. GAH! Why did everybody have to be so freakin' cryptic?

Anyways, Gaster was the one who had led her here. She'd seen him in the snowstorm. He'd led them right to the building. Then he'd left. Why? Why hadn't he let his sons know he was alive _all_ this time? Was it possible this was the only way he could communicate? She looked towards Papyrus and Sans. She understood what that was like, being unable to reach out to the ones you cared about when they needed you. And he wanted her to know what Chara was hiding in her bedroom. All of that was guesswork, but if it turned out to be accurate, it would mean she had wasted all of Gaster's efforts.

A scream suddenly split through the air and all eyes turned in its direction. It was Chara. She looked shaken, way more so than Sans or Papyrus had been. She looked somewhat… horrified. Slowly, the monsters began to realize that it wasn't the news that had made Chara shriek. It was Sans.

Some… strange… thing… had come over Sans. It was something that Frisk had seen many times, but that it appeared none of the monsters here had seen before. One of Sans' eyes was glowing a dark blue, and the other eye was simply… gone. He pushed his way through the crowd, or at least through those who didn't scramble out of the way fast enough, and stormed out of the ballroom, slamming the doors shut firmly behind him.

Chara, and the monsters, simply stared after Sans, the entire room silent.

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Hope you enjoyed the shocking events that have been unveiled in the latest entry of our adventure. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones


	7. Chapter 6: Reset (Frisk)

And so the adventures of Frisk continue, taking a rather unexpected turn… and leaving Frisk with a possibility that she hadn't even considered up to this point. An old enemy returns, warning of dangers to come.

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 **Chapter 6: Reset**

Sans cleared his throat. "I suppose Megan is probably here for the same reason that I am." _What?_ "With Toriel out of town for her monthly expedition to The Flowerbed to see if there are any more fallen humans…" _What?_ "Pap was wondering if you had any plans for the next few days. He sent me to ask."

Frisk blinked, totally confused. Her brain attempting to take in what was going on around her. She was no longer in the horrifying scene at the ballroom. Instead, she appeared to be at Grillby's. She looked down and noticed that she was indeed carrying the platter and wearing roller skates. Then she realized that both Sans and Megan were staring at her, with confused expressions on their faces.

"Uh… nothing. Yes. I mean, yeah. Of course. Thank you." Frisk had to think quickly, but with everything going on in her head at the moment, it wasn't turning out very well. A reset… This was definitely a reset. But she hadn't died, and she most certainly hadn't activated the return to the past panel. Which meant that somebody else had her power now. How in the world had _they_ gotten their hands on it? Come to think of it, she had absolutely no idea how she'd gotten her hands on it either. How did that power even work?

She shook her head to clear it of the thoughts. There would be time enough for that later. For now, Sans and Megan were staring at her with concern clearly notable in their eyes. "I… uh… gotta go." Setting the platter down on an empty table, and slipping out of her roller skates, Frisk bolted for the door. "Sorry guys!"

"Hey!" Grillby called out of the kitchen. "Where do you think you are going?"

"Break," Frisk replied simply, as she put on her shoes and slipped out the door.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Frisk headed for the tree where she had seen the shoe the day before. Well… Technically it would be later that day, but whatever. The storm hadn't started yet, so the temperature was typical for Snowdin. Although her outfit was arguably not made for that kind of weather, Frisk had long ago learned to deal with this level of coldness. Maybe this time, she wouldn't be too late. Maybe she could actually see who had the shoe, and quite possibly the ability to return to the past as well.

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Chara was furious, super furious. It was as if somebody were laughing at her, and she was absolutely infuriated. If she had control of Frisk's body, she would stroll up to the next monster who came into view and ring its neck tightly until it was dead. That would certainly have helped with her mood a little bit.

The journey to the past she so terribly despised, the instability of Frisk that he had literally waited FIVE – FREAKING – YEARS for and ended up missing, and then the realization that somebody had stolen her power. Her ability to return to the past was gone, and somebody was going to pay for that. Nobody, _nobody_ , stole from Chara. And whoever had the audacity to do so was going to find their soul ripped out of their chest and crushed by her hand.

There was nothing she liked more than crushing somebody's soul, and crushing the soul of one who dared to get in her way? That would be bliss.

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Nobody was there. A quick glance around the area confirmed this. Well, nobody of note. There were the normal Snowdin inhabitants, but she was at least slightly familiar with all of them. It wasn't a very big town, after all. Most of them were on their way to their houses, preparing for what they assumed was the beginning of a blizzard. There also wasn't a shoe. Which was good news. As long as she stayed right here, she could get to see exactly where the shoe had come from.

"Hello, Frisky," a high-pitched, slightly irritating and unnerving voice said from behind her, and Frisk stifled a groan. She'd really been hoping never to have to hear that voice again. "Been a while, hasn't it? I had to check in after what just happened and see how you were doing. After all, that wasn't you, was it? That return to the past. You lost your nerve quite a long time ago. Which means, there is a new player in our little game. This could be fun." There was now a smirking sunflower in the shade of the tree.

There was a time when meeting Flowey would have scared her. Heck, there was a time or two when he had terrified her. But she'd killed him so many times now that he had been lowered from the position of terrifying antagonist to annoying side-boss that didn't know when to quit. Frisk rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms.

"No, it wasn't me." When was the shoe going to get here? Was Flowey still going to be here when it did? That would be quite annoying. Unless Flowey had already taken it. "Have you seen a shoe with a checkmark on the side? It's from the surface. I didn't get to check it out last time and thought now would be a great time to do so." She said it impatiently, basically letting him know that she had more important things to do than deal with him.

"Cocky aren't ya," Flowey said, and Frisk gave him a second look. He spoke so confidently, and with so much authority. It was quite odd when considering that the last time she had seen him was in the genocide run when he was fleeing from her in pure terror. This was rather bizarre. "You really ARE a stupid human, aintcha?" He paused for effect. "I feel it is my duty to remind you that I have killed you at least ten times for often than you have killed me. The only reason you won was because of your stupid ability and the aid of the other six souls."

Frisk could see where this was going, and her cocky attitude was beginning to vanish. "With the souls missing, and your power gone, all I have to do is kill you once." He locked eyes with Frisk and smiled in an eerie victory smile. "And that should be quite easy. So I'd watch my tongue if I were you."

Frisk swallowed. She hadn't thought about that. She no longer had a save point. She was mortal again. She couldn't even remember what it was like to be afraid of death, but if she died now, she could quite easily stay that way. There was no guarantee that whoever controlled the time travel ability now would return to a point _before_ she died.

If she got killed, she could very easily be stuck that way. Which meant that Flowey was no longer just an annoying side-boss. He was right; he was once again a legitimate threat, and quite possibly more of a threat than he had ever been to her before. Awesome. Great. Things kept getting better and better.

She turned her eyes back towards the smirking flower, a dark frown on her face. Flowey himself looked unsettled for a moment. She wondered what would happen if she just grabbed onto his stem and pulled. Was there more of him hidden underground? Would it uproot him and kill him? Could he survive if he was no longer connected to the ground?

The thought was tempting. Getting rid of the annoying pest before he had a chance to truly cause a problem. It would certainly simply things, but if it didn't kill him, then he would most certainly kill her. With no ability to revive herself if he did, it probably wasn't worth the risk just yet. Besides, doing something like that might awaken her inner demon. Nothing was worth that. "So what do you want?" she asked.

"Not to kill you just yet," Flowey said calmly. "Notice how we aren't in The Void. Though it does sound fun. I would actually get to keep your soul this time around." He fell silent as if actually mulling over the idea. Frisk found herself whishing she had some kind of weapon, any kind of weapon. If he attacked her, she was pretty much defenseless. "Nah. One soul is nowhere near enough for me, and THEY are far more likely to come around if you are still alive."

They – The souls. Were going to be looking for her? Why? Why would they care… But one of them already had, hadn't he? Yellow had showed up in that weird… whatever that place had been. Which meant that there was something to what Flowey was saying. Actually, now that she thought about it, Yellow had said something similar, hadn't he?

Something along the lines of, 'That's what we are all going to be calling you, and what you are going to be calling us in return.' So he also thought the others souls would be coming around. After hundreds of years of imprisonment, about finally breaking free, they would seek her out. Made very little sense to her, but seemed that was what was going to be happening.

"I came here for only two reasons," Flowey continued, bringing Frisk's attention back to the moment at hand. "To confirm my suspicions that you had lost your ability, and to warn you not to get yourself killed. You are going to find yourself facing powerful opponents, so be ready for that. After all, the honor of killing you belongs to me, and me alone." Then he let out an eerie and unsettling laugh, and disappearing into the ground.

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As she watched Flowey go, Chara's eyes were filled with a fiery hatred. An almost demonic light had come across her face, and that look was nothing short of pure evil. Chara pulled the knife out of her leg holster, and gripped it tightly in her hands. She wanted nothing more than to wring the neck of that wannabe mastermind. There was nobody in the entirety of the Underworld that she loathed more. "Kill us? Right. If anybody is going to be killing anyone, it'll be ME tearing YOU to shreds. Traitor."

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Frisk's thoughts were quite similar to Chara's. If it came down to it, she would kill Flowey long before he killed her. Kill or be killed. She winced, silently berating herself for even thinking such a thing. She was trying to live a _peaceful_ existence where she never hurt _anybody._ She wanted to be a freakin' Pacifist. Why was that always so hard?

Finding herself once more alone in the shade of the tree, Frisk quickly returned to the mission at hand. The shoe wasn't there, and the blizzard was about to start. Now what? She couldn't risk leaving to get something warmer. What if the shoe got placed there while she was gone? She couldn't rewind to try this over again. She simply had to wait. And hope the shoe's arrival wasn't too far away.

Minutes passed, turning into hours, and the temperature got progressively colder and colder. Frisk found herself shivering more and more, kicking herself for not bringing a coat to work that day. Toriel was always telling her, "Now Dearest. We don't know when the weather might unexpectedly change. So you must always bring a warmer change of clothes. Just in case." Of course, not really being concerned with whether or not she died, she'd never really bothered. Health was the least of her concerns. …Until today.

As Frisk found herself beginning to feel a little woozy from lack of heat, there was a sound. Well, she was in a blizzard, so there were a lot of wind sounds. These were living sounds, though, and nobody had been outside for over an hour. Scurrying, hurrying feet darting across the snow frantically. Frisk peered into the blizzard, attempting to see who it might be. Sans. It was Sans.

The relief that filled her for a second, after realizing that she really didn't want anybody dangerous to come out of the snow when she was in this condition, evaporated as he came closer. This was not the normal Sans she was used to. No. This was blue-eyed hell-is-about-to-get-a-little-bit-fuller rip-your-soul-out-and-crush-it-between-my-fingers Sans.

In one hand, he held onto a NIKE shoe. He looked as if he was about to toss it under the tree, but stopped when he noticed Frisk standing there. Instantly, his demeanor changed back to his typical; friendly, laughing, prankster self. He tossed the shoe behind his back and started walking directly towards Frisk.

Her mind was messed up from the cold, and as such she didn't have the strength to keep her fears, or memories, under control. She'd hoped to never see him like that again. He'd killed her so many times, counted them out as he did so. Did he still remember that? Was he coming to end her once and for all? "S-s-sans… the… shoe?" The words came out slurred, due to her tongue, and brain, being a little frozen.

"You'll catch a cold," were the first words he said as he stopped next to her. Those were the last words she'd been expecting to hear come out of his mouth. He quickly slipped out of his coat and slid it around Frisk's shoulders. "Geez, Frisk. This is a rather COLD place to be CHILLING."

Then he glanced back at the shoe in the snow bank. "It's not yours. So you're cool." He said dismissively. He took Frisk's hand and said, "You are coming to my house and getting warmed up. You are acting way too COLD right now." He winked as he said this, and promptly began leading her toward his house.

Frisk found herself relaxing a bit on the trip home. There was just something about the corny jokes and prankster smile that Sans' had that relaxed her, despite her knowing it was a façade. It was a façade that he tended to wear when things weren't too serious. So it made her feel safe. It didn't take long for them to arrive at the house, but Sans' coat was warm, and Frisk was beginning to fall asleep.

So, when they arrived, before she opened the door, Frisk turned to Sans. "Thanks, Sans," she said, cracking in a smile. "I was on thin ice out there." She punctuated the pun with a wink, and he chuckled in return. "No, but actually. What were you doing with that sneaker from the surface?" Sans opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it. Frisk refused to move without getting some kind of answer, so the two of them simply stood there and looked at one another.

After a few minutes, Sans began, "Frisk, look…"

But before had a chance to say anything more, the door to the house flew open violently, and- "ARE THE TWO OF YOU GOING TO STAND OUT THERE TALKING ALL DAY LONG? THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS ALREADY SET THE TABLE IN THE WAY THAT ONLY HE CAN, AWESOMELY!" As the door swung the rest of the way open, Sans and Frisk could see that the table had indeed been set for three.

Sans looked bewildered, staring blankly at the table and blinking a couple of times. "Papyrus," he said slowly. "You set the table for Frisk?"

"OF COURSE!" Papyrus bellowed, looking slightly affronted at Sans' question. "WHAT KIND OF THE HOST WOULD THE GREAT PAPYRUS BE IF HE HADN'T SET A SPOT AT THE TABLE FOR THE GUEST THAT HE INVITED." Sans glanced between Papyrus and Frisk, Papyrus and Frisk, Papyrus and Frisk, then he took his coat, walked right past them, up the stairs, into his room, closed the door, and locked it behind him.

Whelp. There he went. Frisk watched Sans' departure with a bit of curiosity. Maybe he simply didn't want to deal with the time travel weirdness at the moment, maybe he didn't want to talk to her about the shoe, or maybe he wanted to continue whatever it was that she had interrupted. Whichever the case, he was now out of reach. It had taken quite a while to realize it, but she didn't even think Sans could _hear_ what was going on outside of his room most of the time.

Papyrus had described it as "another world" more than once, and she was pretty sure he was more accurate than even he knew. The door would never open unless Sans wanted it to open. Though, arguably it could still be knocked down. She'd seen Megan threaten that a couple of times, but Sans had never given her the opportunity to test out the theory.  
As for Papyrus, he'd always had the odd ability to remember most, if not all, of what happened before the time jump. He just, didn't seem to be able to comprehend exactly what had happened. Likely he remembered that she had told him he invited her over, and that had translated into this time him actually _thinking_ he had done so. That's how these time travel things tended to work with him.

"Hey Papyrus," Frisk said, looking up at him with a smile and waving her hand. "How's it going?" As tempting as sleeping was, Frisk realized that given the choice, she'd rather be hanging out with Papyrus at the moment.

Papyrus was looking out the door at the snowstorm looking slightly forlorn. "THE PUZZLES ARE ALL GOING TO GET BURIED BY THE EXTRA SNOW. THE SNOWDIN GUARDS ARE GONNA HAVE TO REBUILD ALL OF THEM…" Then his smile quickly returned, and he shrugged off the gloom. "OH WELL. THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL JUST HAVE TO MAKE THEM BETTER THAN EVER! DISSAPOINTMENTS BRING POSSIBILITIES." The he sat down in one of the chairs and began to eat his spaghetti.

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Chara watched all of this with a raised eyebrow, not even attempting to hide her annoyance. Far be it from her to compliment her enemy, but Frisk had always been such a smart girl. Why she enjoyed being around Papyrus so much had always bewildered her. Even back when she was alive, she'd never spent much time around the guy, and she'd been with Sans almost nonstop. She winced at the memory. Sans… Another monster who had betrayed her.

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"Yeah, ok," Frisk said, distracted once again. The moment he'd mentioned the word movies, her mind had started to wander. Maybe it wasn't too late after all. If she went with Papyrus to the movies, found the light and went… wherever it was, again. Maybe she _could_ go to Chara's room this time and find out what it was that she was supposed to have seen. Maybe she could also find out who this new player was. Perhaps that was what Gaster had been trying to show her? And this time, maybe she would be able to convince Papyrus to come with her!

First she needed a weapon though. Flowey's words were kind of getting to her. 'You are going to find yourself facing powerful opponents, so be ready for that.' At the moment, she was _not_ ready. She needed a weapon, and she needed some armor. All she had at her house was the toy knife from her room back in the ruins. Nobody knew she'd held onto it, and she wasn't sure herself why she'd done it. Perhaps it was because she always figured a time would come when she would need to fight again. Well, it had. Time to go pick it up.

"I'm gonna go get something from my house, ok?" she said, opening the door.

"WAIT!" The Great Papyrus called, quickly picking up his plate and dumping the rest of the spaghetti into his mouth. Swallowing it, he stood to his feet, and strode over to her. "WHAT KIND OF GENTLEMAN WOULD THE GREAT PAPYRUS BE IF HE LET A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG WOMAN ROAM SNOWDIN ALONE, AT NIGHT, IN THE MIDDLE OF A BLIZZARD?" Frisk blushed at the compliment. "I'M COMING WITH YOU!" Papyrus proclaimed.

Frisk considered rejecting the proposal, as much as she did want to be around Papyrus. How would he respond when she picked up the Toy Dagger? Would she be able to do it without him noticing? She didn't have time to argue with him though. She had a basic idea when Gaster would show up. She'd checked her watch shortly before Papyrus had come down the stairs, after all. She should still be able to make it in time if she hurried.

Which meant…

"Alright, Papyrus. Let's go." She opened the door, and rushed outside. She couldn't go rushing all over the place, defenseless, with dangers out there apparently hunting her, while she had no way of protecting herself. For a moment, she found herself wishing she had Chara's knife from the palace. There was no weapon she'd ever possessed stronger than that one. As she left, she knew Papyrus would follow. It was on now.

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Hope you enjoyed the latest entry in the adventures of Frisk the Undetermined. As always your Fanship means a lot too me. Looking forward to hearing from you. If you'd like to tell me what you think of the story so far, don't be afraid to drop me a review.

~ Xanatos Stones

6


	8. Chapter 7: The Cabin (Frisk)

Home sweet home. A place of lies, secrets, and manipulation. A place where one can hide from the world. A safe place… haven from reality. Frisk enters the cabin.

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 **Chapter 7: The Cabin**

Now this was interesting. Chara smiled as she watched Frisk hiking through the snow. Perhaps she hadn't missed her chance after all. She may not have been able to read Frisk's thoughts, but they'd been together so long that Chara had gotten quite good at reading Frisk's intentions. And at the moment, she clearly was clearly giving off an emotion that suggested at much more dangerous intentions.

Reading these emotions, and knowing much of what Frisk knew, it was often easy to predict her intentions. At the moment, she was clearly heading to the house to pick up the knife that she had stashed there. Who she planned on using it on was a little less clear, as was whether or not she would even be able to. Frisk had gotten quite a lot weaker from years of inaction. But the fact that she was still thinking like this was going to make it quite a lot easier for Chara to awaken the demon.

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Papyrus watched Frisk stroll out into the snowstorm, and then glanced up the stairs towards his room longingly. Even for a skeleton, it was relatively cold out, and having a coat would be really nice for outside travel. Plus, he had a new one that he had really been looking forward to showing off to Frisk.

It looked like a jumpsuit jacket with crisscrossing bones and a giant P on the back. He'd found it at the used items store down the road a few days back. No time now though. He'd have to do it when they got back. Right now he had more important things to do, such as being Frisk's protector from a deadly snowstorm. So, with one last look back towards the stairs, he took off into the snowstorm after Frisk.

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As Frisk made her way through the cold, she found herself surprised at how much of a difference the short time wearing Sans' coat had made. Last time she'd left Papyrus' house, she'd still been somewhat frozen through. This time she felt ready to take on the world. She glanced behind and smiled. Papyrus was indeed there.

She felt bad running out without giving much of an explanation to Papyrus. "I'm going to get something to protect myself with. The political immunity ends soon, and I'd rather not be defenseless." Frisk yelled over the roar of the wind. She felt a shiver running down her spine. If Chara was conscious, this action was going to make her very, very happy.

Doing anything that would make Chara happy bothered her, but Flowey's warning bothered her more. Dangerous opponents unlike anything she'd ever faced before. He hadn't said those words exactly, but the fact that he'd bothered to warn her implied that. Never before had he felt inclined to do that.

"Poli…wha?" Papyrus called over the blasting of the wind. He sounded completely and utterly clueless. Frisk smirked at the response. He didn't seem to have any idea what she was talking about. Perhaps Sans had never bothered to explain to him that she wasn't going to be safe down here forever. Wouldn't really be too surprising.

She turned her head back forward again, attempting to get her bearings. She was near Megan's house now. They'd built it about two years back when Megan had officially moved to Snowdin at the age of sixteen. She had _insisted_ it be directly in between hers' and Sans' houses. Smiling, she turned her attention back towards her own house.

"You won't make it, Frisk." The voice came out of nowhere, but their was no mistaking its' owner. Yellow. "You missed your chance. Let it go. Let the knife go. Don't take this path. It will only lead to regret."

Frisk's eyes darted all over the place. She did not seem him anywhere? Where was he coming from? Was he in a human body here in the real world? "Where are you?" She yelled into the wind. For a moment there was silence. Then Yellow spoke again.

"You are the link between monsters and humans, Frisk. You are the only one who can bring true peace. I promise you, you can succeed where you have failed so many times before. We are all counting on you, Frisk. Never give up. Never surrender. Stay determined. We need you."

Stay determined. Frisk's eyes shot open, countless memories rushing into her head. She hadn't heard that statement in the last five years, but during her runs she heard it almost consistently. Practically every single time she died. …which she'd done quite a lot to be honest. It was a memory of a time when King Asgore of the monsters had said it to Chara… Nice Chara, pretty Chara, the ballroom Chara. The Red Soul. Now she was red. So the role was apparently passed to her. And she'd failed.

And what had he meant by 'missed her chance'? Did she need to abandon the knife and sprint straight for the ghost if she wanted to find him. A quick glance at her pocket watch disproved that theory though. And why did she even care what he said. She had no way of knowing if he could be trusted!

Then she realized that he'd fallen silent. "Yellow?" Frisk asked cautiously. "YELLOW?" Nothing. "Fine! Be silent." He was. Frisk sighed. Usually in a case like this, she'd try one route, and if it failed, she'd try the other. That wasn't an option anymore though. Made the path she was on that much more important, but her mind had already decided that the events of one run weren't that important. It had always been a strange sort of paradox.

She could always go for the knife after the Gaster thing, she decided. Regardless of what her pocket watch said, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that had come at Yellow's words. "Wait, Papyrus. The movies!" She called out, and turned abruptly. "We can go there first. Don't want to miss…"

Papyrus stopped running and simply stood there, blocking her way. He looked confused, probably because her words really hadn't made a lot of sense. There was more to his stance though. It spoke of an emotion she'd known all too well at one point. Papyrus was filled with determination.

"THERE IS NO WHERE I AM LETTING YOU ROAM ABOUT DURING A BLIZZARD WITHOUT ANYTHING WARMER." He'd used the word 'I', and as always, that left Frisk feeling very unnerved. He considered it important enough to not even worry about trying to sound cool. The look in his eyes, his words, his determination, and the use of that word made one thing very clear. Papyrus was deadly serious.

Papyrus reached out and, gently but firmly, took Frisk's arm. "WE ARE GOING TO YOUR HOUSE, AND I AM GRABBING YOU A COAT. I WON'T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER. THIS IS WHAT WE ARE GOING TO BE DOING. AFTER THAT, WE SHOULD STILL HAVE MORE THAN ENOUGH TIME TO MAKE IT TO ESCAPE TO SPACE." Then he turned Frisk around, and taking the lead, began to lead her back in the direction of her house. She couldn't help but wonder if Yellow saw this happening, and what his reaction would be.

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Chara was enraged, storming, furious. She grabbed the lamp from next to her couch and threw it across the room, watching it shatter into pieces as it hit the ground. Destruction. It always had a calming effect on her; the universe going back to the way it was supposed to be. Although it did little to subside her rage, it at least calmed her down enough to put her emotions into concrete thoughts.

She was going to murder that arrogant, meddlesome, irritating yellow soul as soon as she got the chance. Could you kill a soul without a body? She paused. _Was_ the yellow soul, a soul without a body? Either way, she was going to have to dispose of him as quickly as possible. There was only room for one person to direct Frisk's path, and Chara had worked hard to help Frisk become the mindless killer she had always been meant to be. No blasted manipulating yellow soul was going to ruin this for them!

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Frisk didn't argue. She'd learned a long time ago that when Papyrus got like this, one did not even attempt to debate. It did no good. He was one of, if not the, most stubborn people she had ever met. And it showed through the most when he was actually taking things seriously. Like right this moment, for instance. She wondered what had brought it about, her mind drifting back to the mysterious building where Papyrus had been ignoring her. What exactly had he thought was going on then? Did it have anything to do with his peculiar attitude now?

They came to the small cabin that Toriel and Frisk called home. It was a simple house built with only one story. There were five rooms. To the left, a living room with a kitchen branching off of it. On the other right side of the living room, there was a hallway with two rooms. One was Toriel's bedroom. The other was Frisk's. The hallway also had a horizontal mirror, a water sausage, and a cactus.

Walking up to the door, Frisk unlocked it with the keychain she always had hanging from her phone. The phone was a gift from her mother, the keychain from Megan's older sister, Alphys. It had been given to her on one of her birthdays, and Alphys had been a surprise guest. The keychain was a red metal band in the shape of a heart.

Frisk stepped inside and flipped on the lights. She liked the house, clearly fashioned to look just like the ones in Old Home and New Home. Despite all of the nightmarish things she'd had happen to her in both locations, it felt oddly safe and comforting. As long as she stood inside it, she always felt safe and protected. While here, she always felt as if she could hide away forever.

A part of her wanted to stop and smell the wood, run her hands long the table, do the sort of things that always calmed her down, but she was in a hurry. The movie would certainly have enough of a calming effect to counteract everything that she had been through so far. So she could worry about that after the whole Gaster adventure.

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Papyrus followed her into the house, smiling as he walked around. This was his second favorite building in the Underworld. The first was his house because it was full of The Great Papyrus awesomeness. But this place was a close second. There was just one thing about this house that he did not approve of. It was way too lacking in the puzzles department. Sure, his house didn't have many either, but Sans always had weird things lying around that anybody who entered would puzzle over. Like the book on the table, for instance.

There was something about this cabin that he hadn't felt since… well, as long as he could remember, hundreds upon hundreds of years. It felt safe, cozy, peaceful. And the fact that it was where Frisk lived was a bonus. Best friend, and platonic dater's, house. More than that though, it reminded him of before. Back when everything had made sense. Back when it was ok to be in the Underworld. Back when people had hope.

"Hey, Papyrus," Frisk called from her room, and Papyrus made his way over to her. "Can you tell me about your dad?"

For a moment, Papyrus blinked. This was a very out-of-the-blue question. They'd been together… well, platonic dating on a regular basis, for almost two years now. Never once had the topic of his parents come up. And there wasn't really anything in the room… He glanced around to be certain, than continued the thought. There wasn't anything in the room that would have caused her to think about it. The Great Papyrus was confused. But decided to answer anyways.

"DAD?" He replied proudly. "THE GREAT PAPYRUS' FATHER WAS THE GREATEST MONSTER EVER TO WALK THE EARTH! HE WAS A HERO, SAVING THE UNDERWORLD ON MANY DIFFERENT OCCASIONS. HE WAS A SCIENTIST ON THE FRONT LINES DURING THE WAR THAT FORCED MONSTERS UNDERGROUND. HE BUILT THE CORE WHICH IS THE THING THAT GIVES US ENERGY. IT WOULD BE LIKE SUPER, SUPER DARK WITHOUT IT.

"HE BUILT A SECRET VILLAGE FOR A RACE OF MONSTERS THAT WANTED TO LIVE SEPARATE FROM EVERYBODY ELSE. MOST IMPORTANTLY, HE SEALED OFF THE WILDER PARTS OF THE UNDERWORLD IN ORDER TO KEEP WHAT IS INSIDE FROM WIPING US OUT! EVEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO MATCH HIS GREATNESS!"

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Frisk blinked. That was a long list of accomplishments. Although she'd known what the core did, she'd always wondered where exactly it came from. The secret village was probably built for the Temmies of old. Temmies being rather curious creatures. They were very similar to cats in most ways, but had a few rather distinct differences. They had dog ears on the side of their heads, as well as their cat ears. They also had shoulder length black hair and blue eyes. Their legs were longer than a typical cat's and they were around two foot in size.

She paused at the last statement. Wilder parts of the underworld? She'd always just naturally assumed that Old Home, Snowdin, Waterfall, Hotland and New Home were all that the Underworld had ever had. How big WAS the whole thing? She'd file that thought away for later though. Right now, she needed to focus.

It was time to go. Frisk turned from her closet. _**What are you doing?**_ Friskfrowned. She couldn't shake the thought that she was forgetting something important. _**You can't leave without getting a coat for Papyrus. Sure he's a skeleton, but he's shivering.**_ Frisk glanced over at Papyrus, nodding her head. Then she buried her head back into the closet again, searching for something that he could wear. As she did so, her eyes fell on the panel behind which she hid her toy knife.

 _ **Take it.**_ She really shouldn't… _**The yellow soul cannot be trusted. You know this. Spirits in general cannot be trusted. They are manipulizers.**_ Frisk reached for the panel, hesitantly. Then she began to pull back again. _**Don't take it to fight. Take it to make yourself feel safe. Use it as a warning to AVOID fights.**_ Frisk reached forward and opened the panel. _**After all, even in your pacifist run you never said no to a weapon.**_

Frisk picked up the weapon and slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket. She could use it for protection, and she was already here. There was no reason she shouldn't take it. Well, besides the words of a spirit she didn't even know if she could trust. She pulled out one of Toriel's older, lesser feminine looking jackets and tossed it to Papyrus. "So, what happened to your dad? I don't think I've ever met him." She turned from the closet and walked towards him.

Papyrus frowned for a second. "THAT KNOWLEDGE IS BEYOND EVEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS' COMPREHENSION. ONE DAY HE WAS THERE. THE NEXT HE WAS NOT. SOME THINK HE FELL INTO THE CORE WHILE ATTEMPTING TO ADD ANOTHER FEATURE TO IT… BUT NOBODY ACTUALLY SAW IT HAPPEN. SO IF HE DID, NOBODY KNOWS WHY.

THE GREAT PAPYRUS USED TO THINK HE WAS STILL ALIVE, BUT SANS ALWAYS INSISTED THAT HE WAS ERASED BY AN EXPIREMENT GONE WRONG. THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOESN'T USUALLY TAKE THE LAZY SANS' WORDS AS ACCURATE, AND FATHER'S EXPIREMENTS NEVER WENT WRONG. HOWEVER, HIS FAILURE TO RETURN AFTER SO MANY HUNDREDS OF YEARS… SUGGESTS THAT HE NEVER WILL."

Then he fell silent, slipping on Toriel's old coat and stepping out the door rather abruptly. He turned and strode towards the theater, not even glancing behind to make sure that Frisk was following. He seemed to simply assume that she would be. It was an odd reversal when considering that she had just done the same thing to him a couple of minutes before, when leaving _his_ house.

Frisk followed behind him silently. This was very un-The-Great-Papyrus of Papyrus. He must have been very broken up over the loss of his father even now, all these years later. And she supposed she could understand that. To have somebody close to you disappear like that, with no real proof left behind to show what happened, would leave a terrible lack of closure.

She was bothered by something else though. Gaster was alive. She'd seen him. So why _hadn't_ he come home? Why abandon his children for hundreds of years only to reveal himself at last, and then leave, without uttering a single word? Wasn't really the definition of a great monster in her opinion. Seemed more like a jerk.

As they walked away from the house, Frisk glanced back at it one more time. There was something lonely about the way the cabin stood empty in the middle of the blizzard. And a feeling she couldn't quite explain settled in the pit of her stomach. She was beginning to feel whatever it was that Megan and Sans had been trying to make her feel, something _off_ about the world, and she didn't like it.

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Things are beginning to reach a boiling point. Chara and Frisk, partners for life. Hope you enjoyed the shocking events that have been unveiled in the latest entry of our adventure. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones

(P.S. UltimateGamer101, Ringcaat, and Owl Chaser - Thank you for taking the time to review. It means the world to me. Peace out.)

5


	9. Chapter 8: The Movie Theater (Frisk)

A trip to the movies is harmless, right? Perhaps. But with darkness spreading everywhere, countless unanswered questions, and a stashed weapon… Is anywhere truly safe?

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 **Chapter 8: The Movie Theater**

Chara was silent. Her victory in the closet was really being rained on at the moment. Her eerie smile had turned into a scowl. She didn't like all of this talk about Gaster, especially Papyrus' praise of the monster. Frisk's opinion was pretty clear, and she shared it entirely. The man was a douchebag. If he hadn't gone and done whatever it was that he had done, then none of this would ever have happened. She wouldn't have sealed her fate. She wouldn't have…

Chara violently forced the memories from her head, viciously forcing an image of slicing the infuriating cowboy to pieces into the now empty space. The past was the past. It was dead, and she was going to make sure that it stayed that way. She was going to erase the Underworld, and every single thing that lived inside of it.

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As they made the familiar trek towards the movie theater, Frisk kept her eyes open for Gaster. She did her best to take the same route that she had the last time, though it was difficult with Papyrus striding in his silent, moody way. She didn't worry about it though. His moodiness would disappear as soon as Gaster showed up. Her logic was faulty, considering how he'd been pretty mood afterwards in the _last_ run, but she was too focused on her objective to notice the flaw.

Rather, Frisk was focused on a problem. They were getting close to the movie theater now, and there was absolutely no sign of the monster. Frisk pulled out her pocket watch. 9:50. This was most certainly the time that Gaster had appeared last time, and she was pretty sure this was where he had done so. But there was nothing. Just snow. A shiver ran down her spine, though whether it was from the unnerving situation, or the cold, was unclear.

This wasn't how time travel was supposed to work. Things didn't change like this. Where was Gaster? How was she supposed to find the building if he never bothered to show up? Unless, something she had done had caused him to change his plans. There was also the possibility that he remembered resets. She was pretty sure he _wanted_ her to see what was in Chara's room though. So even if one of those options was the case, it still didn't make any sense. With a sigh, she glanced over at Papyrus.

He'd slowed down and was now humming the tune to The Papyrus Song. He'd mentioned briefly back at the cabin what film that they were going to be watching, and despite everything else going on, Frisk was actually excited to see it. The story was about a crew of monsters who launched a spaceship out of the hole near in the ceiling near The Ruins and journeyed to find a new home in space.

It was another film in a long line of films by the greatest producer/director/actor in all of the Underworld, a robot by the name of Mettaton. About three years before, he had appeared out of practically nowhere. He'd had a small following for years before that, but he hadn't found his niche yet.

Back in those days, he'd been way too self-absorbed to actually make it. Once he'd lost a little of his over confidence, he'd exploded into stardom. Kinda ironic, in a way. At the time of his appearance, he'd been the only star in the Underworld, but he'd inspired countless other monsters. As a result, there were quite a few TV stars now. None of them measured up to Mettaton in fame or skill, and none of them was as loved.

At last, they arrived at the movie theater. Gaster had never appeared, and Frisk was ticked. Why the _HECK_ hadn't Gaster done what he was supposed to do!? The time jumps were one of the only things she'd ever felt like she had any sort of control over. She'd mastered them. She understood how they worked!

Even if somebody else was using it, she knew how to use it to her advantage. But something had gone _wrong_. She didn't know what. She couldn't think of anything that she could have changed that would have altered Gaster's appearance. She was visibly tense, quickly and repeatedly tapping the back of her fisted right hand against the palm of her left one.

Then there was the question of who exactly _had_ the power, and what he had been doing before the return to the past. What situation could he possibly have gotten himself in that would require something like that? She couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. Her hand, without even consciously being told to do so, began reaching for her toy knife. She needed a distraction, and quick.

Frisk reached into one of her coat's outside pockets and pulled out her wallet. Then she took out some Gs and tossed them over to Papyrus. "Here. You know what I like. Buy us some snacks, alright? I'll pick up the tickets for Escape to Space." She was a huge Mettaton fan, and had been since day one.

She'd practically dragged Toriel to the theater for his opening premiere, which had been a pretty long trip considering the only theater was in Waterfall at the time. Megan had invited them to stay at her and Alphys' house. Now _that_ had been a good memory. Why couldn't she have more of those kind?

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Chara was enjoying watching Frisk squirm. Unsettled was good, very good. Without it there was no way that Chara could ever hope to break down the heavily armored shield that she'd used to hide herself from the world. She knew who Frisk was supposed to be. Frisk had seen it for a moment too. Frisk spent so much time running from who she was meant to be, trying to forget, trying to run away… But Chara was determined to help her friend.

They were cut from the same cloth. Partners in a shared destiny. No matter how much time it took, Frisk would remember who she was, Frisk the Genocider. Of course, they were going to need a way to bring Frisk's true self back to the surface. A target of some sort… She smirked. "I'm a genius," she thought to herself with a grin. "I just so happen to know the perfect imbecile."

Although she was beginning to grow impatient with her choice not to join the action, Frisk needed to think that this next part of Chara's plan was a realization _she_ had come to. As such, it was imperative that she bide her time before returning. The moment would come. The line of thought she was about to introduce to Frisk's subconscious would ensure that.

"Something is off, and you know who is behind it. You met him at the party that you were never meant to attend. He's been watching you, said as much himself. He remembers everything that you have ever done, and he knows how powerful you truly are. He wants to ensure that you stay weak, an opponent without even a weapon. No LOVE. No XP. An ant warring against an elephant. All the souls disappear except one. You, Red. And now Yellow has come to collect the missing piece. You are in danger, and that means… so is everybody that you know."

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Chara's thoughts registered somewhere deep in Frisk's subconscious mind, but there wasn't anything she could do about it at the moment. So, the thoughts remained in her subconscious mind, festering. Unaware of this, Frisk made her way over to the ticket booth to purchase the tickets.

The cashier was a mouse with a scarf that tended to spend all of his free time wandering around Snowdin looking depressed and being pessimistic. It had never struck Frisk as odd, to be honest. All of the monsters in town were depressed, most just attempted to hide it. It wasn't _that_ surprising that at least one wouldn't bother to do so.

"That'll be 40G…" the mouse said mopily, not really bothering to look up from the cash register. Frisk glanced into her wallet, and grimaced. She was short 10G. It wasn't much, and she most certainly had more at home, but considering that the movie had only been out for a day or so, there wasn't really time to go back home if they wanted good seats. So she simply stood there, feeling foolish.

Papyrus came to her rescue. He strode over to her looking completely bewildered. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, FRISK?" He didn't say it angrily, more as if he truly was unable to comprehend what she had been thinking. "THIS IS A PLATONIC DATE. THAT MEANS, AS ALWAYS, THAT THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL BE PAYING FOR EVERYTHING." Then he promptly pulled 40G out of his pocket.

Frisk smiled, blushing ever so slightly, though whether from embarrassment, or for some other reason, remained unclear. She really _was_ distracted today, wasn't she? How could she have forgotten that there was no way Papyrus was going to let her pay for everything? She wondered if he'd realized that she had given him the money to pay for snacks. She chuckled quietly to herself. Didn't really matter either way.

Papyrus marched up to the mouse and boomed, "MY PLATONIC DATE AND I NEED TWO TICKETS TO ESCAPE FROM SPACE BECAUSE METTATON IS AWESOME!" He slammed down the 40G like a boss and simply stood there grinning. The mouse looked up from his cash register for a moment, and the slightest hint of a smile crossed his face. Taking the money, he handed them the tickets.

Papyrus took Frisk by the arm, like a gentleman, and turned towards the movie theater. He escorted her through the ticket register area, to theater room number twelve, and to a seat in the middle of the fourth row. Papyrus didn't say a word as he did walked Frisk, holding himself the way he'd seen gentleman do in movies. He had a massive smile on his face the entire time. As soon as Frisk sat down, he did so as well. Then he broke the silence. "LET THE MOVIE BEGIN!" His booming voice reverberated through the room, but nobody hushed him.

Frisk smiled, finally beginning to feel herself relax for the first time in… She frowned. It was hard to estimate time when one did the same day more than once. She shrugged the frown off as she glanced over at Papyrus. As long as he was being his goofy self, and not his scary unsettling self, it meant everything was fine. She could relax and enjoy a movie with her date… _platonically,_ of course.

The movie started with the logo of Mettaton's personal production company, Leg Productions. Then the scene opened. Mettaton was wearing a brown lab coat, standing in a makeshift laboratory, and looking up proudly at a massive rocket in front of him. The rocket looked… unstable. It wasn't even straight. The likelihood of it actually making it to the hole on Mt. Ebott, let alone space, seemed quite small.

Three other monsters wearing lab coats stood next to him, smiling as well. The only Temmie who lived outside of Temmie Village, and had a name, which was Bob played one of the three. The other two were a muscular seahorse with a horse head, and a strange creature whose body shape resembled a demon. Half the time, its body was covered by a giant eye, but when it closed, two demon eyes and a smirking mouth took its place. Frisk had encountered hundreds of both species in her runs, they were called Aarons and Astigmatisms.

Mettaton looked up at the hole, then over at his three companions. There was the sound of an explosion behind them, and the four companions glanced at the sealed doors behind them warily. "I guess this is it," Mettaton said with gritted teeth. "We're going to have to risk it. Are you guys ready?"

"It's now or never," Bob said, stepping up next to him. "All we can do is hope for the best." The metal door behind them began to crack under the constant pressure. "Let's go,"

Like all Mettaton films, the film was packed with solid choreography, good one-liners, and romance. Bob, Ron, and Dr. Meta each met and fell in love with somebody during their journey, so that the crew grew to seven. In most aspects, it was a great Mettaton film. Unfortunately, there was an unsettling theme running throughout the entire story. The encroachment of humans.

It was revealed rather quickly, with the door to the room shattering open just as the spaceship took off, that they were fleeing from humans who had finally made their way into the Underworld. Dr. Meta and his crew were the only monsters left on earth. Mysterious troubles kept occurring in the spaceship, and the places they were forced to land.

Towards the end, the crew found out that Astigmatism had a human soul, and it had taken control of his body. They were able to bring him down, but not without both Ron and Dr. Meta's lover being killed. Worst, however, was what happened once Dr. Meta's group crash landed on Paradise after the battle. Humans were already there.

When the monsters emerged from the spaceship, they were instantly attacked by humans who were out for blood. The battle choreography was stunning, but it was clear from the beginning that the monsters were outclassed. One by one, they were struck down. Dr. Meta was the last, collapsing to the ground with a sword through his chest.

His last lines were, "I get it now. We were doomed before we even began." The second to last shot was a circle of the battlefield, showing the bloodied corpses of his crew. "There is no escape from humanity." It then cut to the humans, smiling proudly and walking off into the sunset to celebrate.

Frisk gulped. She was used to movies being somewhat anti-human, but this one… took that whole concept to a new level. It implied that there was no escape, and that a fight could be won. It was only a matter of time before humanity wiped out monsterkind once and for all. Watching it, Frisk couldn't help but remember that she was the enemy. No matter what she did, or how she did it, as long as monsters remained underground, she always would be.

Toriel, Sans, Megan, Grillby, and Papyrus watched out for her. And if push came to shove, she could protect herself. She touched the pocket where she hid the toy knife, but instantly pulled it away, ashamed. Considering how tempting it seemed to be, she probably _should_ have left it at the house. She was beginning to feel certain that she would soon regret bringing it along.

For the moment, though… she slipped into the seat and pulled her coat up over her head. Maybe if she left quickly enough, while it was still dark, nobody would realize that she was human. Frisk tugged on Papyrus' arm gently. "Come on Papyrus, let's get out of here. Please." Papyrus looked in her direction, sniffling and attempting to wipe the tears from his eyes. The final scene had pretty much the entire audience bawling, besides Frisk. She'd been too busy watching the screen, horrified. The ending was pretty clearly screaming Genocide Run.

"NO NEED TO HIDE YOUR TEARS BEHIND A HOOD, FRISK. EVEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL PROUDLY SHOW HIS TEARS AFTER AN ENDING LIKE THAT. IT WAS AWESOME." He promptly choked up and started bawling again. Then he stopped rather abruptly. He reached over and gently removed the hood from Frisk's head. "You have nothing to fear," he whispered gently to her. "As long as I am here, Frisk, you will never need to hide."

Frisk blushed and gave a genuine smile. He'd completely let his outward appearance go and spoken from the heart. No loudness, no 'The Great Papyrus', straight heart-to-heart communication. For a moment, she considered telling him what was going on, what had been going on for the last five years. But she decided against it. She didn't want him to get wrapped up in her troubles, both for his sake and for her own. She didn't want him to know the terrible things she'd done.

Frisk looked around the room, at all of the bawling monsters. Nobody had moved yet. All just sitting there in a shared mourning. She had a feeling that it wasn't just the events of the film that caused this. It had spoken to a deeper part of the monsters, a truth that all of them had come to accept a long time ago. It was quite impressive how far Mettaton had truly come since her runs.

An image of a bloodied and broken Mettaton crossed her mind, and she had to consciously prevent herself from gripping her heart in pain. That was right… She had tasted his dust… the dust of nearly every monster… including Papyrus. She wanted to run… and a look of terror and panic and darkness came over her face for a moment. She needed to get out of that room, away from the large crowd of monsters.

She breathed in and out, in and out. Forcing her emotions to lower, forcing herself to calm down. As quickly as she was able, she replaced the emotional mask over her face. She glanced back at Papyrus, who was now simply sniffling while watching the other monsters begin to leave. "Thank you," she whispered to him. "For everything."

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Chara had mixed emotions, but one thing was clear. She had enjoyed that film. She had enjoyed that film very much. Stories like that had _always_ appealed to her, even before Gaster's death. It was something that she had spent much of her time trying to teach the monsters of the Underworld, that the humans were dangerous monsters. Ironically, her being a human had seemed to _lighten_ their fears at the time.

This story was one of hers. It was clearly based on a campfire story that she'd told at one of the cookouts that Asgore had put on back when she was still alive. It was rather shocking that it would actually show up as a film several hundred years later, considering how vehemently the monsters had argued against it at the time. It wasn't that they were trying to defend humans as much as they trying to defend their ability to escape from them, however.

Seemed they had changed their minds. "Enjoy the film, Frisk?" She whispered to the subconscious. "Hit a little too close to home? And don't fool yourself. Papyrus can make as many promises as he wants, but we both know how this is going to pan out. In the end, it will be you killing him. And I will be cheering you on.

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Papyrus smiled and took Frisk's arm again. "YOUR VERY WELCOME, MADMOSELLE. LET'S GO PICK UP MEGAN, AND THEN GO ANNOY SANS." He grinned mischievously.

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Things are looking dangerously precarious. Frisk struggles to hold onto her sanity, but the path that she has chosen can only end one way. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones

(Thanks again for your reviews. ^_^ )


	10. 9: The Walls Come A Tumblin Down (Frisk)

It is sometimes said that one can feel when things are about to fall apart. One can tell when something will happen that changes everything… forever. An unease in the air, shattering apart an otherwise beautiful scene.

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 **Chapter 8: The Walls Come A Tumbling Down** (1,817)

Frisk attempted a smile, as she replied, "Yeah, sure. That sounds like fun. Megan would most certainly go for it too." She let Papyrus lead her away, glancing once more back towards the blank theater screen. She knew that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, and that was comforting.

The toy dagger in her pocket, however, kept messing with her head every time she felt it move. And it brought with it a very uncomfortable thought. _**In the end, it will be you killing him.**_ Who was going to protect Papyrus from her, if she were to ever lose it again? No. Never. She was stronger now, and Chara was asleep.

Instead, she forced a smile back onto her face, just as she had been doing for several years. She wasn't going to let anybody else be plagued by her bad memories. She was going to bury them so deep that eventually, they would simply cease to exist. So she held her head up high, and walked like a lady being escorted to a ball as they walked through the theater lobby and out into the cold.

Although the blizzard was still going strong, it had decreased in ferocity quite a bit. As such, they weren't nearly as cold, and there was no need to rush. The mood was also considerably lighter. Papyrus and Frisk walked hand in hand, and Papyrus spun tales of different traps that he and the Royal Guard of Snowdin had built to catch any intruder who dared to enter their domain.

They had caught a number of innocent monsters in these traps, and no humans as of yet, but the RGS were not the types to become discouraged. They were practically all almost as eccentric as Papyrus himself was. As such, they were a fun group to hang around, and Frisk did so quite often.

"AND THEN THERE WAS THE TIME THAT THE ROYAL GUARD OF SNOWDIN TRIGGERED THE LONG BRIDGE TO BURST INTO FLAME IF ANYBODY DARED TO STEP ACROSS IT WITHOUT EXPRESS PERMISSION FROM ONE OF THE ROYAL GUARD. AND THE PERSON WHO DID WAS WELL AWARE OF IT. THE PERSON WAS…"

"Sans," Frisk replied with a chuckle. "I remember that one. He came home looking like he'd just fallen into a bonfire. He was pretty ticked off."

"YUP. AND THEN HE MADE THE GREAT PAPYRUS REBUILD THE BRIDGE. ON AFTER THOUGHT, EVEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAD TO ADMIT HOW STUPID OF AN IDEA IT HAD BEEN." And Papyrus started to laugh whole-heartedly. Frisk joined in. She found herself suddenly blushing, and she looked at the ground to avoid it. A relieved smile was on her face.

Her earlier worries were beginning to fade away. Normal life was beginning to take back over. Sans had whatever the shoe was involved in under control, and Gaster hadn't bothered to show up a second time. Maybe it was possible that her life could go back to the way it had been for the last several years. Maybe the feeling of dread she'd been having and thinking was what Sans and Megan had spoken about, was actually nothing more than paranoia.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY HAPPENED HERE!?" Papyrus roared. It came suddenly, out of nowhere. Rage unlike anything that she had ever before from him. His fists were clenched, and he was no longer holding her hand. Frisk was terrified of what she'd see when she looked up. Terrified of what sort of sight could bring that kind of response from Papyrus. For a moment, she considered walking away without ever looking. But that just wasn't the kind of person she was. She needed to know.

Frisk looked up and her entire world seemed to reel. The front door to Megan's house was hanging from only one of its hinges, twisted disturbingly. The front window was shattered, and the glass was scattered across the ground. _No._ Her mind ceased up. She started to make her way towards the house, walking unstably as if in some sort of trance. Step. Step. Step. Images were flashing through her head, one by one. Horrific things she'd done to the monsters of Snowdin. Step. Step. Step.

She found herself at the doorway, and pushing the creaking door aside, she stepped inside. Inside, things were worse. The table was knocked over. One of its legs had snapped off and was lying on the ground several feet away. Broken glass and shattered glass cups were scattered across the floor. It seemed practically ever piece of furniture had been turned on its head. Even the light bulbs seemed broken. Clearly, there had been some sort of a struggle.

Could it have been a break in? Frisk's mind was grasping at straws, frantically searching for any explanation other than the one that was screaming at her. The people of Snowdin were peaceful and content enough. There was nothing Megan owned that any of them would have wanted. Maybe Megan had just gone on a rampage and done this to herself? No… That didn't seem likely either. Megan didn't rage.

It had clearly been a while since Megan had cleaned the house too. There was a very slight layer of dust over most of the room. Nowhere near enough to really worry about, but still unhelpfully upsetting. Then she saw it, in one of the last rooms to check, a pile of dust. No. She let out an unearthly cry and dropped to her knees in front of the pile. One of her hands, now inside her coat, clenched tightly onto the toy knife that she had hidden there. Her eyes were wild, like a haunted animal.

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Papyrus entered the room, eyes darting back and forth. Then his eyes turned to Frisk and the pile of dust. He froze, his breathing heavy, doing his best to remain calm. Frisk looked… scary, like some kind of demon had just been released into her body. Best to leave her alone for the time being. She didn't look like somebody who would even allow herself to be comforted. Like a mother who had lost her child, she seemed more likely to lash out at anybody who came near. So he did not.

Instead, he focused on what he could do, which was little. "WHO DARES TO DO THIS IN *MY* CITY?" He swore under his breath. "THIS IS *MY* TOWN, AND ANY BEAST WHO DARES TO DO SOMETHING SO HORRIFIC HERE IS GOING TO PAY THE ULTIMATE PRICE. I AM GOING TO RIP THEM TO SHREDS." Then he turned and left the room, holding in his rage as best he could until he was out of Frisk's earshot.

His eyes darkened, making him look like quite a different person from the Papyrus that Frisk had always known. His breathing was ragged, heart beat fast, insides raging. He wanted to scream out, but didn't want Frisk to hear. "ROYAL GUARDS, ASSEMBLE YOURSELVES! WE ARE GOING TO FIND THIS BEAST… AND MAKE IT PAY FOR ITS CRIMES."

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Chara was pleased, very pleased. This was a very fortuitous turn of events. Did she know what was going on here? No. Of course not. That didn't mean she couldn't use the situation to get her friend back, though. Frisk had already taken so many of the steps herself. All she needed was a little helpful push over the edge.

"The place where you heard Yellow whispering to you was right next to Megan's house. Why was he there? Why did you let him get away from you? Surely you understand now, right? He was going to kill Megan. He is going to do everything he can to break you, so that he can make you into whoever _he_ wants you to be. If you hadn't let him get away, Megan would still be alive."

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Frisk's mind raced, trying to think of any way to undue what her eyes were seeing. Maybe she'd wake up. That's it. This was just a nightmare. Her best friend wasn't dead. She hadn't allowed that to happen. She hadn't been too preoccupied with finding Gaster and going on a freaking date with Papyrus to pay attention to the warning signs. But she had.

Even before the movie had begun, she'd known that Yellow was bad news. She'd even figured out that her friends were in danger. She had _known_ her friends were in danger, and she had _known_ that Yellow had been suspiciously near Megan's house. How in the world hadn't she put two and two together before? She held her hands to her head and let out another cry. She couldn't even go back in time and fix it this time around. Death was permanent. This was all her fault.

At that moment, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Frisk looked up from the dirt, and growled like a wild animal protecting its injured young. With her feral eyes, and ferocious expression, she looked quite a bit like a demon. The figure stopped walking forward, and Frisk eyed the stranger up and down.

It was a human boy, probably a year or two younger than her. His hair was white, spiky, and he wore what appeared to be circular motorcycle glasses on his forehead. His clothes were filthy, so much so that she couldn't tell if it was dust… or nothing more than filth. He wore a leather jacket and black jeans. She looked down further.

Frisk's eyes widened, and she stood to her feet. Her entire posture had changed. She seemed to be smiling, albeit a smile that sent a shiver of spine down the back of anybody who looked at her. She lifted her toy knife and pointed it at the intruder. She'd sharpened it a few years back, and now she was glad she did. This boy was going to die.

The boy stepped back. "This is not what it looks like," he said calmly, holding up his hands with both palms extended. The signal to stop. But she was far beyond that point. Nothing could stop the madness that had taken hold of her. The madness that Chara had been fighting for all this time. After all, no matter what excuse the boy gave, it wouldn't explain away what he was wearing on his feet. NIKE shoes.

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Chara laughed. "Don't listen to him, Frisk." She'd won. After all these years, Frisk the Genocider was finally back. The madness. The bloodlust. The longing to kill. To crush. Frisk's true self was awake. "Last time you allowed somebody to sweet talk you, your best friend ended up dead! He killed Megan. You know this. This man will gladly lie his way out of this if you let him. Stop being a fool, and dispose of him before he too can blind you with his lies. He is the enemy. "

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Frisk the Genocider, the demon that comes when people call her name.

Hope you enjoyed the shocking events that have been unveiled in the latest entry of our adventure. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones

3


	11. Chapter 10: The Demon Inside (Frisk)

The demon has awoken, and the world screams out for blood. Is it too late for Frisk the Undetermined? Who is this mysterious boy? And what has happened to Megan? Only time will tell, as Chara's fondest wish gets answered and she once again sees…

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 **Chapter 10: The Demon Inside**

The world around them became dark, all color and items fading away. Frisk, wild-eyed, insane, grinning like a maniac, lunged with the dagger. Her best friend, murdered by that boy. She'd see how he liked it, how he felt about watching _his_ blood drain out on the floor. It didn't matter anymore. She'd tried to be calm, tried to live an ordinary life, tried to keep her madness at bay.

But this boy and that blasted Yellow soul wouldn't leave her alone. She would rip them both to shreds, tear them both to smithereens. She couldn't do a genocide run if she wasn't the one in charge of the Underworld's destiny anymore. That job had clearly been handed to somebody else. Slashing out with her dagger, Frisk began to laugh.

A clang echoed across the void, and Frisk looked up in surprise. The knife had been blocked by the butt of a gun. A pistol. That could only mean one thing. This boy and Yellow were one in the same. If she cut down one, both of her offenders would fall. "Relax, Red. Kyle is telling the truth." Yellow's voice came out of the boy's mouth, teeth gritted. Blocking another strike, he said, "This body isn't Megan's, either. We have no idea where she is!" Block. Block. "YOU – NEED – TO – STOP!"

As all of this went on, the kid seemed utterly confused. He kept watching his body, as if trying to figure out why in the world it was moving without his willing it to. The blows kept coming one after another; Frisk laughing wildly as she pelted the dagger down again and again and again. "EARTH TO RED! YOU ARE FIGHTING THE WRONG PERSON!" Yellow screamed, his eyes flashing angrily. "LEAVE KYLE ALONE!"

Frisk was beyond hearing anything though. The only thought running through her head was "Kill. Kill. Kill." Her blade crashed against the pistol over and over again, sparks flying. She didn't seem to be getting anywhere, but she could care less. All she wanted was to see her knife sink into the flesh of this man who dared to get in her way. This man who had awakened her demons.

Of course the dust belonged to Megan. The man would say anything to make her stop. He couldn't be trusted. He was a liar, nothing but a liar. She needed to get stronger. Rage flashed in her eyes, and Kyle suddenly found himself stepping backwards. He was no longer able to keep up with her rapid slices. The longer they fought, the more her hatred grew, and in the void, there was a rule. The more you wanted to hurt somebody, the stronger you became.

Pacifism never solved the problems. Monsters were foolish, weak, feeble. Most of them were too dense to try and fix things themselves, relying on just a few to do everything for them. Cut down those few, and everything fell apart. She could no longer hear anything besides the clash of metal on gun, and the periodic, satisfying, slice of knife upon skin. Her brain was screaming at her.

Frisk lunged forward and grabbed at the gun, knocking it out of Kyle's hands. Something inside of him snapped. It seemed as if the Yellow soul had taken complete control. "I am not going to hurt you," he replied calmly. He'd stopped moving backwards, and instead of simply rolling with Frisk's swings, dodging them easily. He wasn't even taking steps, simply tilting his body around as if in a purposeful attempt to enrage her more. "And you are not going to hurt me."

Yellow jumped backwards suddenly, and Frisk dove forward, thrusting. He pushed Frisk's thrust out of the way with one hand. "Stop it. Before you hurt somebody that you care about." She spun around, and he dropped to the ground, pushing himself back up with his hands in a backwards flip. "THINK ABOUT YOUR FRIENDS, RED! Alphys… Mettaton…" He slipped to the side as Frisk lunged yet again. "You are a threat to everybody when you are this way."

Frisk leapt forward, bringing the knife down with both of her hands. "Papyrus," Yellow said, blocking both her arms with an upward X-block. Swinging his arms and causing her to stumble to the side, he said, "Sans. Don't forget what caused you to regain control. You do not want to make the same mistake again."

Frisk charged, swinging viciously and wildly. Flailing was not as effective as professional attacks, but it was much harder to block. But Yellow's maneuvers had gotten him exactly where he wanted to be. As she charged, he swung his foot forward, kicked the gun off the ground, caught it expertly in his hands, and pointed it at Frisk's head. "I will make you remember," he said coldly. And then he fired.

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The skeleton coughed, blood running out of the slash in his shirt. Standing over him, bloody knife in hand, thirteen year old Frisk stepped backwards, eyes shocked. Blood? What the heck? The skeleton looked up at her, and a shiver ran down her back. He wasn't looking at her with anger anymore, or hate. No… the look in his eyes was a mixture of pain and… sadness.

"So… I guess… that's it then, isn't it?" The skeleton struggled to his feet, while Frisk watched wide-eyed. But he didn't step towards her, didn't attempt to strike her again. Instead, he closed his eyes, as if accepting his fate. "Just… just don't say I didn't warn you, ok?" He turned and began to walk away from her, stepping slowly out of The Void.

Frisk just stood there, stunned, shocked, horrified. Blood… Her eyes hadn't left the blood as the skeleton spoke. The ash that covered her body began to feel heavier as well, the weight of all the lives she had taken. The obnoxious dancing robot, the courageous Undyne, the annoying but lovable Papyrus. Over a hundred runs, over a hundred failures, and somehow it was all ending… here. Dozens of years spent searching for a happy ending. And her closest friend during that time dying in front of her, by her own hand. Shame… So much shame…

"I'm going to Grillbys." Frisk heard the words, but they barely registered. Then he was gone from The Void, and she heard the words, "Papyrus, do you want anything?" Then he was gone. A moment later, the girl felt a surge of energy and power coursing through her body. The skeleton was dead.

"Good riddance," a now all too familiar voice said, and Frisk turned to see her companion on this nightmare mission standing next to her with a proud expression on her face. "Come Frisk, let's end this." Chara extended her hand, but Frisk stepped back defiantly. Chara looked confused, and stepped forward. "What are you doing?"

She had to get out of here. She had to escape. The horrible actions, the nightmarish scenes, slicing, ash, blood… Frisk looked down once again at the blood splattered on her shirt, and tears came to her eyes. She was a monster. She had to run. Had to escape. Hide from Chara. Hide from herself. Hide from the truth of what she had done.

Chara's eyes widened as she realized what Frisk was about to do, and rushed towards her. "No. WAIT!" But it was too late. Determination had set in.

"Reset," Frisk said confidently.

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The memory came rushing over Frisk, overwhelming all of her senses. That final moment when she had made the choice to retreat. The moment she had stopped trying to fight for anything. The moment when she'd given up. The moment… she'd killed her best friend. She looked up, and for the first time, her mind registered that the kid staring across at her wasn't any sort of threat. Despite everything she'd just done, he didn't appear at all hostile. He looked more… worried.

Quivering, Frisk stepped back and dropped the dagger. It made a clanging noise as it landed on the wooden floor of Megan's home. They were no longer in the void. How had it come to this? It had been five freaking years. She'd been a child back then, a foolish but well-meaning child. Five years of life, of maturing, of building a heavily structured wall around herself. Only to find out… none of it had mattered. She was still just as twisted as she was back then.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Frisk dropped to her knees, shaking and tears running down her cheeks. How dare she cry? She was a monster, a cruel, vicious monster. But the tears wouldn't stop. She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. "Who are you then…? Why are you in Megan's house…? And why is there a pile of dust here?"

"Nobody special," Kyle said, kicking his feet awkwardly and looking away from the weeping girl. After a moment of awkward silence, he added. "I mean… I don't know what's going on here, and I have absolutely no idea who this Megan character is. I just fell down a couple of days ago. This ash belongs to…"

As he spoke, Yellow stepped out of Kyle. It was something that Chara did often to Frisk, but it was the first time Frisk had ever really been able to watch it happen. It wasn't so much a separation as a mind projection, at least, as far as she and Chara understood it to work. That didn't really explain why she was able to see Yellow, though. He walked forward and set his hand on Frisk's shoulder. Any other time, she would probably have freaked out about somebody else's mental projection being able to touch her, but she had other things on her mind at the moment.

"We have an enemy," he said simply. "A dangerous enemy far beyond anything I can comprehend right now. The ash," he motioned to the pile, "we were bringing to you. I'm afraid it's all that's left. It happened before we got there, so we have no idea who it was, or what their motivation might be. At the moment, they are clearly hiding somewhere, biding their time before they commit their next unspeakable act." His eyes darkened. "Kyle and I are going to bring whoever it is down."

Frisk nodded. She wasn't sure how much of what they were saying she could trust. At the moment, she didn't really trust anybody, not even herself, but she also didn't really have it in her to put up much of an argument. She was exhausted… absolutely exhausted. A part of her just wanted to sleep and never wake up. It was possible now, wasn't it? Now that she no longer had the time travel ability? That would have been too easy though. She didn't deserve to let the pain end like that. No. She had to keep on going.

Kyle claimed to have just _stumbled_ upon Megan's ashes? That was a bold claim, and not one that she was entirely convinced she believed. There had to be more to the story than that. Maybe, though, there was a chance this could be fixed. She looked up at Kyle hopefully. "Uh… you… you don't happen to have the ability to go back in time do you?"

She was tired, broken, shamed, and terrified of herself. But at least, if he could go back in time, Megan wouldn't have to die. She could invite Megan over to Sans' house like she had done the first time around. Unless… Unless Kyle had saved _after_ Megan's death. The thought was immediately stifled. She couldn't allow herself to think that way. She didn't hear her subconscious screaming anymore. All was silence.

"I wish…" Kyle replied regretfully, looking down at his NIKE shoes awkwardly. "But in that caste, I would have gone back a while ago, rather than carrying that ash all the way here."

Frisk's eyebrows arced at that statement. _All the way here?_ What the heck was that supposed to mean? All the way from _where_ , exactly? Where the heck had he gotten that ash?

Yellow nodded his head in agreement to Kyle's words. "She deserves a proper burial, a lady like her. But I figured you should have the right more than anyone else." Yellow looked at the ground, unable to meet Frisk's eyes.

Something was off here, something was very, very off. "All the way here?" "A lady like her?" "She had the most right?" The words bounced through Frisk's head, as she tried to make sense of them. One thing was becoming more and more clear, that these weren't Megan's ashes. Her subconscious mind seemed to be pushing a suggestion towards her, one that her conscious mind was as of yet unwilling to accept.

There was a moment of silence, in which it became apparent that Frisk wasn't going to ask the question that needed asking. Coughing, Yellow decided to break the silence and address it. "It was her majesty, Toriel the Wise. I can only assume that Kyle was not the only person to have fallen recently, because whoever came before him killed your mother."

Frisk's mind broke at the words she'd feared to hear. A new bout of tears came on, and neither Yellow nor Kyle said anything. What was there to say? "Mom…" Frisk forced out through the tears. "Mom… Mom… Mom…" She repeated the word over and over again. How could she survive without Toriel? What was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to go? This was unfixable, something that simply couldn't be returned from. There was nobody in the world that she needed more than Toriel, and now she was gone.

Everything had gone so well for five years. What was that, some kind of cruel joke? She remembered how Sans had always felt during each of the runs she had done. That narcissism. Nothing mattered. The world was simply playing a cruel joke, and her misery was the punchline. She'd lost all control.

The world was crumbling around her, and she could no longer go back in time to fix it. She no longer had sufficient determination; she couldn't save anyone. All she could do was cry. Cry until she woke up from this nightmare. Cry until Toriel showed up and proved Yellow a liar. Cry until… until there were no tears left to shed.

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Kyle watched Frisk cry, frowning as he did so. What exactly had he gotten himself into? Nothing had gone as he had planned, absolutely nothing. His attempt to run away had ended rather differently than he had expected. And now, he was sharing his body with some strange cowboy, running from some creepy skeleton, bringing a girl the news that her goat mom had died, and pretending like he had no idea what had happened.

He did though. He had a guess at least, one he was pretty confident would turn out to be accurate. He didn't want to say it out loud though; for fear that it would make matters worse. Names had power, after all. Plus, he didn't want to believe it to be true. Because if he was right, than nothing they did from here on out would even matter.

The person would not stop at killing Toriel. He wouldn't stop until the entire world, Underworld and Surface world, was nothing but a pile of ash. If it was indeed who he feared, nothing could prevent it. So he said nothing, simply watching Frisk weep. If he was right, all would be revealed in time.

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Goat Mom, huh? Chara raised an eyebrow at the news. Of all the monsters underground, Toriel was the only one that she didn't bear any sort of ill will too. Sure, she'd cheered Frisk on when cutting her down during the Genocide Run, but that had served a necessary purpose. It had helped Frisk grow stronger. She gained nothing from her mother dying this way.

She felt that she should probably feel remorse over the loss. But she had stopped feeling anything of the sort a long time ago. The odd thing was, she didn't really feel much of anything about the news. Well… that wasn't quite true. She found herself quite disappointed that she hadn't been able to cut Toriel down herself.

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It was unknown how long the two of them stood there, watching Frisk cry. Neither seemed really sure what to say or do, just… not interrupt. Finally, Frisk broke the silence. "Do you… have a vessel… to bury the dust in?" It was a rather strange thing to ask, as they had claimed they carried her ashes all the way here from… wherever it had happened. But it _was_ lying on the floor in a lump, so…

Kyle remained silently, in what appeared to be a relatively emotionless state. Yellow frowned. "Yeah," he said awkwardly. "But it broke. We ran into a psycho skeleton, you see. And he simply wouldn't listen to a single word we said. This…" he motioned to the havoc state of the house, "happened when he came in here to search for us. He is down right scary when he gets mad."

Frisk frowned and glanced down at Kyle's sneakers once again. So they were the people Sans was chasing. She'd assumed as much. It left a question that needed answering. The other question, how he had managed to get his shoe back, could wait. "What did you do to make him so mad? I mean, killing Toriel was never enough before."

Kyle looked bewildered by the statement, and Frisk instantly realized her mistake. She'd accidentally just stated that Toriel had been killed _before_. The guy must think she was some kind of lunatic. Yellow had raised an eyebrow as he looked at her with an expression that pretty clearly meant I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that.

Then he shook his head. "You must be completely blind. Think, Red! Are you completely oblivious to the world going on around you?" He shook his head pityingly. "How can you possibly not see it? He has been emotionally connecting to this world. Most of his old DETERMINATION seems to have come back, 'cause all it took to send him reeling was seeing a human holding a pile of ash."

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Chara had stopped pacing, and was now staring out the window of her house with absolute loathing. How she wanted to grab that arrogant soul by the neck and strangle the living daylights out of him. Not that all of the news he was bringing was his own fault, but she needed to take her anger out on _somebody_ , and he was perfect for the part.

Sans being that active was bad news. Very bad news. It would cause unwanted complications if he decided to interfere with her goal. Just as _everything_ that had been happening over the last day or soul had been doing. She was done being the world's punchline though. She would win in the end. She'd bet her soul on it, after all.

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Frisk blinked. The thought that Sans might actually be able to live a happy life, that the narcissistic skeleton might ever actually get some _hope_ had never even crossed her mind. Things weren't really any different than they'd been for most of his life, and though he claimed it had begun with the resets, she was pretty sure that was only the final straw on the camel's back. Her mind began to replay her latest interactions with Sans, attempting to line it up this new information.

"Frisk, do you really need me to spell it out for you?" Yellow asked. He seemed troubled, and she knew why. He was acting like this was so… obvious, and yet she had been completely oblivious. That was a bit unsettling. "He's made _friends_. He cares about, and worries over, you. He is _crushing_ on your best friend. The evidence that he is building a new life is everywhere. Old Sans never displayed that kind of emotion, or took that kind of initiative. Unless he absolutely had to, the only thing that he ever did was watch.

"We should… probably bury her… Mom." She forced herself to say it. "We need to bury Mom." Then she knelt down and began to scoop the remains of her mother into an empty, but uncracked, vase that Sans had knocked on the floor during his rampage. Kyle instantly knelt down and began to help. Yellow, unable to interact with the world around him any more than Frisk had during the ball, watched.

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Chara scoffed. Even back when she was alive, the concept of burial had never meant much to her. She'd seen a lot before she even entered the monster world, despite being only thirteen years old, and had come to grasp with the knowledge that a corpse wasn't who it had once been. They didn't care what you did with what they had left behind. Dead was dead. Nothing more.

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The house was silent, eerily so. Back when Megan had been alive, there had always been noise. The TV would be running, while the radio in the back room blared, and she talked nonstop about this or that. If Frisk had chosen one word to describe Megan's house back then it would have been _loud_. The silence simply magnified the terrible emotions running through her. It was too much.

Frisk scrambled to her feet, tears beginning to flow down her face again. She needed to get away from here. Needed to get to the only other person she ever truly felt safe around. It was a terrible lapse in judgment, leaving her mother's ashes on the floor of Megan's ruined home, but she needed to get to Papyrus. She needed to run away from this situation. Hopefully Mom would have understood.

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There is no going back. The world is crumbling apart. Enemies keep popping up. The darkness latches on to Frisk and refuses to let go. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones

(Thanks again for your reviews, ngrey651 and OwlChaser113. They mean a lot to me.)

6


	12. Chapter 11: The Anti-Souls (Kait)

Our journey now carries us to a distant land where the second pawn is introduced.

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 **Part 02: The Two Chess Masters**

 **Chapter 11: The Anti-Souls**

In a part of the ground sealed away long ago, within an old abandoned castle deep within a rainforest, five children of varying ages sat around a circular table. In the tallest of said chairs was a frowning older teenager in a chef's uniform. Oddly, this didn't detract from his overall appearance. Everything about him seemed radiate evil, and the look in his eyes was filled with nought but malice. He seemed like the kind of person who lived for no other reason than to cause others pain.

Right now, his scowl was directed at the other four people around the table. A male karate master, age 16, who cringed under the glance. A female ninja, age 14, who looked impatient with the whole meeting. A female ballerina, age 12, who smiled with a sickeningly innocent look. A female bookworm, age 15, who simply lounged in her chair. "Will one of you _please_ explain to me why Yellow isn't here yet?" the chef spat impatiently.

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Kaitlyn, known to the others as Blue, leaned backwards, legs crossed under her tutu. She sucked on the lollipop she held in her hands with a smile. She was absolutely adorable, and she knew it. Her long black hair had been neatly slicked back and then tied up into a bun. Her eyes were big and adorable. She acted the perfect ballerina in front of others… but these guys knew her. She was perfectly evil, and everybody liked it better when she acted that way. Her cuteness really got on their nerves.

It was very useful when it came to manipulating people into giving her what she wanted. She'd only been here a couple of days, but she had already learned how easy it was to play puppet master with most the people here. Green was a different story though. He'd set himself up as second-in-command, and nobody had really dared to question it.

"I got no clue," Kaitlyn said dismissively, attempting to play it cool. "Nobody knows! We all know just as much as you. We woke up and walked here because the Master called us. He needs our special talents for his secret mission."

"Well, based on the statistics," the bookworm said carelessly, pushing up on her glasses "considering how Yellow hasn't shown up yet, it's quite unlikely he ever will be."

Green's frowned deepened. "You are all _way_ too relaxed," he growled angrily. "This is not just something we pretend didn't happen. Yellow simply can _not_ be allowed to roam around freely out there doing who knows what. Why don't any of you seem to get that!?"

"I do," came a voice from behind the five of them. A tall figure stepped out of the shadows. Nought could be seen of him but the giant blue cloak that he wore. "I so very, very much do."

Instantly, the group of humans dropped down on one knee. "Master," they all said in unison, though the level of adoration was different for each. Kaitlyn liked to believe she was his most loyal warrior, but she suspected that Green just obeyed in order to keep his position of authority. Another reason to hate the guy.

The room was quiet as The Master strode over to Kaitlyn. He looked down at her and extended his hand. Kaitlyn just looked at it in bewilderment. Why was her master reaching out to her? How was she supposed to respond? Was she supposed to take his hand? Surely he didn't want her to… "Come with me, Kaitlyn," he said. "We have much to discuss."

Kaitlyn's eyes sparkled, and she instantly did as she was told. Their awesome, amazing leader actually acknowledged her by _name_ , and wanted to take her somewhere they could talk privately. As she got to her feet, she smirked arrogantly at the other humans. Then she turned towards Green and mouthed, "Guess _I'm_ The Master's favorite." Following The Master out of the room, Kaitlyn dusted off her tutu and followed obediently. The biggest, most pearly white smile on her face.

The Master led Kaitlyn through the hallways of the castle, and Kaitlyn did her best to take it all in. Her, and the other humans, were never allowed to go very deep into the castle, so she was seeing all of this for the first time. The walls were decorated with framed pictures of kings and queens, dusty and torn from years of being ignored.

Suits of armor of all shapes and sizes lined the walls. They passed a room that had at one time been a spectacular kitchen, and a ballroom that looked like it had been designed to hold thousands of monsters. She felt as if she was trespassing on some sort of ancient sacred ground. She found herself hoping she wouldn't have to be wandering through this much longer.

He stopped at the next turn and opened a closed door. It looked like the typical sort office that one would find aboveground, and did not at all look like it belonged in the ancient castle. There was a shiny desk, a large window that gave a beautiful view of the rainforest outside, a cactus sitting in one corner, a rotating, a refined wooden chair, and a rotating leather one, which The Master promptly sat down in.

"I have a mission that only you are qualified for," The Master said, glancing out the window. A raging storm was circulating the rainforest right now. "My plans are perfect. The seal is going to crumble. Asgore and his ilk will die. My greatest enemy will finally have his soul extinguished. I do not need any snot-nosed children getting in my way, especially not one that is supposed to be on my side. Find Yellow, and if he is a threat, I want you to remove him. Once he is out of the way, I want you to remove the mockery of a monster child, Frisk the human."

Kaitlyn nodded, positively beaming. The Master had selected her for a special mission. And she would totally follow those orders. She did a little twirl. Slicing a couple of people might even be fun. Green would most certainly love it. She paused, mid-twirl, not even losing her balance. Green would also be much better at it. "Uh…why me? I mean, I'm honored, Master! But… what makes me more qualified? I'm pretty sure Green is a lot better at killing things."

"And if this were just about killing somebody, I would have to go to him," The Master said in agreement. "But this mission is going to require a bit more tact that killing skill. After all, Yellow is by far the strongest soul. Even Green wouldn't stand a chance against him, and we can't have a human wandering around killing in order to increase their strength. For my master plan to work, everything must be done discreetly."  
Kaitlyn frowned. If even Green wouldn't be able to beat Yellow, and she couldn't kill to grow her Level of Violence, how was she supposed to do it? "How am I supposed to beat him?"

"Win his trust. Find out if he is still on my side. If he is not, stab him in the back. You are the most skilled deceiver and manipulator in existence. There is nobody who could do this better than you."

"Why, thank you." Kaitlyn did a little curtsy, her pearly white glinting off of the office lights. She was a great dancer, super adorable, and an efficient killer.

She had many fine qualities that she loved about herself, and she could make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich. However, the thing she had always been most proud of was her ability to lie and deceive others. And to be recognized by somebody as important as The Master for something so important to her… there was nothing better than that. It was like a dream come true.

"I won't disappoint you!" Kaitlyn said confidently. "Are there any other details to the mission? Do you know where I should look first?" She looked up at him and tilted her head. The Master was rather like a father-figure to her, and she wanted to make him as proud of her as she was of him. She wanted to impress him. Anyone, and everyone, else could burn for all she cared.

The Master shook his head. "Unfortunately not. As even I do not truly know what is going on, how to resolve it is a little vaguer than I would like. At the moment, I can only conjecture that HE is probably behind it in some way. Do whatever it takes to bring down both that traitorous soul, and that upstart human. But Kaitlyn… make no mistake. Yellow is the main target here. You have two months. No matter the cost, he must be dead by then."

The Master walked over to the window, looking out at the storm, his eyes darkened. "I can get you through the barrier, but that is it. From then on out, you will be on your own. There is far too much that needs to be done on this side if I do not intend to miss my chance. I have no time to hold your hand.

"Once the mission is complete, do not try to return. We will see you again when once my plan is complete. Of course, that all depends on how you do on your mission in the Underworld. Everything hinges on that. Kaitlyn, do not fail me." He turned and looked directly at her as he said the last five words.

Kaitlyn continued to smile beamingly, even as The Master's face darkened. She wasn't unnerved in the slightest. After all, to feel unnerved, one would have to have doubts over whether or not they were going to succeed. She had no such doubts. She was perfection incarnate, and the Master would see that soon.

She would perform her mission so spectacularly that the only thing he would be able to say in response was, "Kaitlyn. You are indeed perfection. In fact, you are so amazing that I want you to be my daughter. How could I not have somebody so amazing as my only heir?" She grinned at the thought. There was just one slight problem with the plan.

"Question," she said, raising her hand. "If even Green would have a hard time killing him, how can we be certain that I can cut him down in one blow? I mean, I am only level one. How can I get strong enough to make sure he dies in one blow?"

The Master turned, and chuckled, eerily. He walked over to the desk, pulled a key out of his cloak, and unlocked the door on the front of it. "A while back, HE gave me a gift. It was a rather ironic one, considering how HE stabbed me in the back emotionally just a day or two later." Reaching into the drawer, he pulled out an ebony, jeweled dagger with ancient ruins inscribed upon it.

He tossed the weapon to Kaitlyn, who jumped into the air and caught it, then landed perfectly, feet together. Several years of ballet had caused her acrobatics to become unparalleled. "That weapon can kill anyone in one hit, regardless of their LV or armor." He laughed this time, a full, deep, disconcerting laugh. "The very weapon he gave me as a gift will be his undoing. I can't help but appreciate the irony. 'It can cut through anything,' he had said. In that case, we'll use it to cut his plans to pieces."

Kaitlyn's eyes were wide and she stared down at it with growing pride. The weapon looked deadly, very deadly. It looked a lot like the kind of knife you would expect an assassin to carry. Fitting. She was about to prove herself the most perfect assassin ever. "Gladly," she said with a nod of her head. "Use the weapon he gave you before stabbing you in the back figuratively to stab him in the back literally? Sounds like fun."

"I expect you to return that to me, blade red with their blood. Don't lose it or break it. I still have plans for that dagger." He closed his eyes, and an aura of darkness began to appear around him. Kaitlyn could feel the wind beginning to pick up inside of the building, nearly propelling her forward. It was like standing in the middle of a raging windstorm.

"Yellow and Frisk must not be allowed to cross the seal," The Master spoke calmly, yet loudly, over the sound of the wind. "That is your responsibility. Everything I've been working towards for the last several hundred years depends upon it." His eyes flew open, and a blinding darkness blanketed everything. "I expect great things from you, Kaitlyn. Don't let me down."

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Who is this mysterious Master? Where will Kaitlyn appear in the Underworld? What adventures await the young ballet dancer? Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones

(Thanks again for your reviews, Guest, Olerbasity, and Esther 3. I really appreciate it ^_^ )

4


	13. 12: Mutually Assured Destruction (Kait)

A familiar enemy. A new human to the Underworld, with a deadly mission. When these two meet up, there is only one course of action.

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 **Chapter 12: Mutually Assured Destruction**

Kaitlyn found herself on a little platform jutting out over boiling lava. Her eyes widened, and she glanced around frantically. This looked like a very precarious situation to be in, and she wanted to get out of it as soon as possible. She froze, not really daring to move. The last thing she wanted was to overweigh one portion of the platform and have it tip. Of course, she was more likely to fall in if she tried to move.

The platform she was standing on appeared to have two portions. Most of it consisted of a rather questionable, lit up, burgundy arrow. The rest was barely wide enough for Kaitlyn's feet. The platform itself couldn't have been much larger than six inches in diameter. It was also very hot, which was saying something. She had just left a rainforest after all.

There didn't appear to be any monsters around. She scanned the area, and her eyes were drawn to the only living thing in the area. On a larger platform, six foot by six foot this time, there was a sunflower. It instilled two thoughts inside of her instantly. The first was how a flower could _possibly_ have grown in this environment. It simply didn't make any logical sense. Plus… the fact that there was no foliage around anywhere implied that something was off.

The second thought was how intriguing the concept of a flower with a face looked. She couldn't really think of any purpose for such a plant, but she had never seen anything of the sort back in the rainforest. She leaned forward to get a closer look. "Howdy," it declared. "My name's Flowey. Welcome to the Underworld."

Kaitlyn nearly stumbled backwards in surprise. If it were anybody else, they would have lost their balance, stumbling backwards and plummeting into the lava below. Kaitlyn, however, was a master of acrobatics. Thus, she was able to catch herself before she committed accidental suicide. Then she turned her attention back to the talking flower.

There was a lot to pack into the little statement the monster had just said. As a monster it clearly was. It had welcomed her into the Underworld. They were clearly in the middle of it, as she couldn't see any entrances or exits anywhere. Plus, the fact that he had clearly been standing… sitting… whatever a flower did… there, staring at this spot for who knows how long kinda implied he knew she would be coming to this exact spot.

The only conceivable explanation was that this flower monster thing knew where she had just come from, which was really bad news for her. It meant that she had, before doing absolutely anything, already… been hindered. The easy thing to do would have been to just pull the flower out by its roots and throw it into the lava.

However, as she had absolutely no idea what his position was in the monster society, it was probably not such a good idea. Also, The Master had strictly forbid her to kill anyone. Sure it was just a flower, but she was pretty sure it still counted. Glancing back at the flower and taking stock of it, she knew first of all that the welcoming smile was phony. It took a phony to spot a phony, and she was the best phony out there.

Kaitlyn smiled back, putting all of her skill into making her smile seem as sincere as possible as she faced her first test. Her feet were getting a little hot since ballet slippers were _not_ meant to withstand a lot of environmental stuff, lava being one such thing, but she ignored it for now. "Hi Flowey," she said with an angelic voice. She did a little curtsy, an acrobatic skill of some difficulty when considering how little room she had to stand on. "My name is Kaitlyn, and thank you."

"Howdy, Kaitlyn. Do ya mind if I call ya Blue? Or perhaps… Deception?" He winked at her as he said it. "Dec seems ta suit ya. That's what I'll call ya. Nice ta meet ya, Dec." He popped underground and appeared again on a tiny platform right next to hers. "I think you, and I could become great friends. Whaddaya say, partner? Wanna help me to destroy The Underworld?"

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Flowey looked at the girl in front of him, a look of confidence and excitement etched across his face. He wasn't sure how much of it she was buying, nor was he himself exactly sure how much he was actually trying to sell. That was the secret here. Blend truth and fiction, fact and guesswork, so closely together that even a person as used to seeing through lies as Kaitlyn the Deceiver, would be at a loss as to when exactly he was lying.

"I remember what is on the other side," he said as he glanced at the open space behind her. "I've been there before. A long time ago. And I am pretty sure I know what brought ya here." Plus, the expression that he had been given when he called her Deception was exactly what he had been hoping for.

"If ya wanna, I dunno, drop the act for a few moments, we might actually be able to get something accomplished. We have business to discuss, after all, and I can promise ya… It'll be well worth your while. Whaddaya say?" His smile this time was as genuine as they came. Then he fell silent, simply staring at her and waiting.

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Kaitlyn frowned back, annoyance clearly etched upon her face. Wh-How? How could this flower possibly know _everything?_ He didn't just know where she came from, but clearly knew who she was as well. That was _supposed_ to be a secret. And… now he was offering her a partnership. It was all rather suspicious, but what would happen to her if she said no?

She was a stranger in a strange land. She didn't know the slightest thing about how to even go about _finding_ Yellow, and the Master had either been unable, or unwilling, to tell her. She never could tell with him. Either way, she had been left entirely in the dark, groping around cluelessly. Flowey, on the other hand, seemed very knowledgeable, irritatingly so. If he really wanted a partnership, he might be a useful tool to keep around. When he was no longer of use, she could remove him.

Her face relaxed from that of a perfect angel to the sassy, sarcastic character that she had been showing off so strongly in the meeting. "Yeah, Flowey. I think we can work something out. You scratch my back; I scratch yours type of thing?" She pulled a lollipop out of her pocket and stuck it into her mouth. "Of course, it depends on what it is you want. I mean, I am sort of pressed for time."

"What do I want?" Flowey began, and he changed. He was still a flower, but the innocence was gone. His eyes were wider, and his smile was jagged. He looked quite a lot more like a monster now, a demon flower. "I'm assuming the things I want will help ya with what you want. Chaos. Blood. Death. Namely, I just want to stop being bored. And unless I'm quite mistaken, you and your kind are kindly coming over here to help me out. Ain't that right, Dec?"

This was her type of flower. That was the first thing to cross Kaitlyn's mind. The things he wanted seemed like the sort of things that she would enjoy as well. He would have fit right in with the souls at the meeting. In fact, if he had spoken to The Mater, he would probably have been recruited. He hadn't though, and so she had to remember. He was the enemy. He was a tool that she was going to have to throw away at some point. Nothing more.

"Not buying it," she said, giving Flowey an impatient look. "You seem way too intelligent to simply want to join me for the sake of killing monsters. In fact, I think you could have been doing that on your own. So I'll ask again, and I'd like a more honest answer, please. If I form a partnership with you, what am I going to have to do?"

"There is a human who has been a constant pain to me since the day I met her," Flowey replied with a touch of bitterness. "I'll help you in any way you like, and in return I will only ask for one thing, her soul."

Kaitlyn raised her eyebrows. He wanted the soul of a human girl. As far as she was aware, there was only one human girl in the Underworld. Then… "What's her name?" She asked.

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Frisk. He hated the word more than words could express. She'd stopped him hundreds of times. She'd stolen, and then lost, his teleportation powers. Why hadn't he gotten them back afterwards? He wasn't sure, but it was a bit infuriating. These were the two outward reasons. They were the reasons that Frisk would certainly have told anyone who asked her why Flowey had it in for her.

But there was a third reason. One he hadn't ever said aloud, nor ever intended to. It would mean that he cared, and he didn't. He didn't care about anything. Then for a short while… he'd thought he had. But after the close call at the end of the last run, he knew that had been nothing more than an illusion. That was it, wasn't it? After his failure in the genocide run, he'd lost his determination too.

Nonsense! He was Flowey! He was going to grind the Underworld beneath his feet. He was going to make them pay for everything that he had endured. He would make them regret reviving him. Over the years since the last reset, he'd grown far stronger. Not in the conventional LV or XP ways. He'd been trying to keep a relatively low profile until he found a way to bring down Frisk.

A human soul would make him unstoppable. And if he could get his hands on it without endangering his own life? That would be almost heavenly… well, heavenly for him; hellish for the world. Of course, nothing would give him more pleasure than taking the infuriating Red Soul down himself. He chuckled, and then spoke with a hint of bitterness. "Frisk. She's the Red Soul."

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Kaitlyn pondered, making sure not to express pleasure at this relatively odd piece of fortune. They were after pretty much the exact same thing. The only difference was the main target. Flowey here, wanted to get rid of the 'mockery of a monster child' as The Master had called Red. She _was_ supposed to go after that girl, but only _after_ Yellow. He was the main target. She chuckled. They were like a rainbow, the seven of the human souls. Though… a rainbow that didn't appear to know which direction it was supposed to be going.

She didn't trust the flower though. There was something he wasn't telling her. Some motive that he was keeping to himself. But he really did want the same thing she did. There was no way of faking _that_ emotion. Plus, he was full of information that she needed and didn't know of any other way to get. He could double-cross her at any time though. She felt the warm metal of the dagger against her skin, under the leotard she was wearing. Then again, so could she.

Mutually assured destruction, she thought was the term. She'd heard it more than once. Green liked to throw it around at a lot of their meetings. If she understood correctly from the circumstances he'd used it in, it was when two or more forces threatened each other, and so agreed not to harm one another. She wasn't sure if it was the proper term for when two said forces teamed up against a common enemy, but who knew? She'd have to ask Green about it when she returned. And was the new leader, as the daughter of The Master would certainly be.

She was smart, perceptive, and the best deceiver there was. She wouldn't allow herself to be manipulated. Flowey would be like putty in her hands. She rubbed them together. "Oh, you'll have your chaos," she said with a sneaky smirk. "Th… My master will make sure of that. First, though, we need to get rid of the humans."

She paused for a second there. Had a flicker of confusion might have just passed over the flower's face? Did she just tell him something she didn't know? No way could he have figured anything out about her master from that one sentence, could he? She'd have to be more careful. "Red is one of my targets, but my main one is actually Yellow. I need to meet him, find out what his intentions are, and discover whose side he is on. I can take care of Red along the way. You don't happen to know way either of them might be… do you?"

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Yellow? Steven? The most powerful and dangerous of the human souls? … Well, besides Demon Frisk. No. He was quite possibly stronger. Demon Frisk had had the ability to reset as many times as possible. Steven had only gotten one shot against Sans. In that one shot, though, he'd almost defeated the skeleton. And unlike Demon Frisk, he'd only been at LV 1.

In this timeline, he was probably by far the strongest soul. And this little girl was supposed to take him down? It was almost laughable. Almost. Whoever they worked for had to be some sort of mastermind. Thus, he clearly knew what he was doing. It would be interesting to see how this unraveled.

He played it cool, contemplating over this new development. He'd assumed that one could come out to remove Frisk, as she was the only soul not under the command of whoever had pulled off the soul reversal. Dealing with two souls at once would be rather unpleasant, but there was little doubt that if a soul were to rebel, they would want to join up with Frisk.

"Yellow will be with Red, Dec. Ya can count on it with absolute certainty. If he plans to oppose your master, he ain't gonna want ta take ya all on mono-e-mono. He'll join forces with _someone_ , and as he knows your master will be gunning for Red, she's the obvious choice." He knew he had to be careful. Every word he said had to have at least some shred of truth to it. There was absolutely no doubt she would notice the instant he lied.

"You do know that _He_ is still around, right?" Flowey asked the next question as if out of nowhere. But it was to test the waters. He had to know how much she knew about Gaster. "Keeping a close eye on Frisk? You can count on it that he is still in Snowdin, and that if he sees you, you _will die._

 _"_ I don'tknow what your plan is, but nobody can best him. Not as he currently is. I bet even your master knows THAT." He certainly did. Flowey frowned. That skeleton mastermind was the only reason he hadn't taken down Frisk himself the moment he'd found out that she lost her powers.

Kaitlyn sucked on her lollipop, giving off no reaction whatsoever. Kinda irritating really. "I think you severely underestimate me, Flowey. That guy shouldn't be much of a problem at all for somebody like me." Flowey frowned at her words. He wanted to believe they were nothing more than bravado, that the girl couldn't really be _that_ stupid, but he couldn't read her. That was something he was loathe to admit it. For the first time in _hundreds_ of years, he'd met somebody that he couldn't read.

Flowey nodded as he looked around. "Alright. The first thing ya are going to want to do is step on that flashing arrow that seems to have ya spooked. It seems, ya would rather be balancing on the edge of death. It'll launch ya to the platform that I just left. After that, we are gonna want ta talk to the River Person. He runs a boat near here, and there is no one who can get ya around the Underworld faster. Me, I don't need such transportation, but as a soul trapped in a human body, I'm pretty sure ya do."

"I'll go and take care of the annoying puzzles along the way, while you get yourself out of here. Just keeping forward until ya see some stairs. The River Person will be at the bottom of them. That's where I'll see ya next." Then he popped underground, leaving Kaitlyn alone in the fiery chasms of the Hotlands.

There were places he had to be, and traps that he had to lay. He was pretty clear on the fact that he was way over his head, but thousands of resets had long ago made him stop caring about taking such risks. He'd lived longer than practically anybody in the Underworld, if you added all of the trips back in time that only remembered together. In all of that he'd learned one thing. If you want to get ahead in life, you have to take some, albeit well-calculated, risks.

He didn't know who this Master was, but if he could pull off a spell like the soul reversal, he had to be unimaginably powerful. Unless Gaster was ready, the likelihood of Glowey making it out of this alive was minute. _If,_ on the other hand, Flowey could get the two of them to take each other down, the only one who even _COULD_ winwas Flowey.

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Flowey and Kaitlyn join forces, both with different plans for how the other can be used. In this game of trickery, who will come out on top in the end? Only time will tell. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones


	14. Chapter 13: Erase (Frisk)

Our story returns once more to Frisk, fleeing the scene of her mother's death. Alone, and in desperate need of comfort, she turns to the only person she believes she can trust. But upon arrival… it becomes clear. Something is very, very wrong.

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 **Chapter 13: Erase {Frisk}**

Running out into the blizzard alone had not been a very good idea. She didn't even know where she was going. She just seemed to be running. At this exact moment, her flight instinct seemed to have overtaken her fight instinct. Flight and run probably weren't the best words to use in this situation, however. Those tend to imply speed, and Frisk wasn't moving very fast at all. The snow had gotten to be relatively deep, probably at least a foot, so moving wasn't easy, and was quite slow.

Her mind was in overdrive, overwhelmed with waves of fear, regret, shame, uncertainty. Toriel had always been the calming force in her life. She had always known exactly what to say to calm Frisk down. She could make her feel stable with just a glance, and a comforting word. It was because of Toriel that she'd even been able to cope with the world. Now she was gone, and the person who had killed her was still out there somewhere.

Wait… If the ash hadn't belonged to Megan, then did that mean she was still out there somewhere? Had she dragged Sans out of her house kicking and screaming shortly before she'd arrived? That would explain why he hadn't actually caught Kyle or Yellow. She chuckled for the briefest millisecond, before the truth of what was going on overwhelmed her again.

She stopped running as she suddenly found herself at Papyrus' house. Papyrus. He'd know what to do. And if Megan had dragged Sans' out of her house, surely this is where she'd take him. Maybe they were here as well! She turned the doorknob. It was locked. Odd… It wasn't typically locked while the skeleton brothers were inside. She started knocking.

 _But nobody came._

Frisk knocked for a full minute, becoming more and more frantic each time. "Answer-The-Door!" Her mind screamed out, as the tears began to flow from her eyes once more. Nobody came. Her eyes darted to the window, and she did her best to look through the drapes. She couldn't see anyone. Where was Papyrus!? She needed him to hold her in his arms, whisper to her like he had at the movies. Assure her that everything was going to be ok.

Waaait a second. Frisk turned back around, and stared out into the storm. Of course Papyrus wasn't here. He'd run off to collect together the members of the Royal Guard. He probably wouldn't be back here for a while. She facepalmed herself. How could she have forgotten that? It had literally just happened. Sans… on the other hand… was probably inside doing any number of things. Secret things with Megan, being chewed out with Megan, or just in that room where he seemed unable to hear anything not immediately outside of his door.

She reached over to the window, and pushed it open. It swung open slightly, just enough for her to be able to slip inside. Something she'd done on a number of occasions. She hoisted herself up and slipped inside. Her mind wasn't on how she would explain her actions if she did indeed stumble upon something she wasn't supposed to see. She had other things on her mind. Such as a murdered mother and a driving need to be near her friends.

Not a single light was on in the entire building, so Frisk pulled aside the drapes, allowing some moonlight to slip inside. Instantly, she froze. For a split second, even her heart didn't beat. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. She had felt it since the moment she'd discovered that the door had been locked. The room stank of the unease that had been haunting her for over a day now. What had caused her to freeze, though, was what she saw when the moonlight lit up the room.

The rock was gone, the one that had sat on the table since before she'd met Papyrus and Sans. It had been Sans' 'pet', and Papyrus had always loved to feed it. But it was no longer on the table. Turning her head, she noticed that the sock and note collection was no longer on the wall either. Unsettled, Frisk stepped backwards and collapsed onto the only chair in the room.

Her hand subconsciously reached for the creepy dimension defying physics and jokes book, but her hand hit wood. Turning nervously, she found that the end table was empty. Jumping to her feet, she began to give the main floor a thorough search. What she found sent a shiver running down her spine. Anything bizarre about the skeleton bros' main floor was gone as if it had never existed.

What was going on? The weirdness of their house perfectly fit the skeleton bros' whacky relationship and over-the-top personalities. They would never just _decide_ to throw all of it out. Her hand instantly shot into her pocket and gripped the pocket watch tightly. Just feeling it under her hand caused her heart rate to go down. He'd given it to her when he'd noticed she kept asking about the time, and it felt… comforting.

She'd just ask Sans what was going on. He was probably in his room talking to Megan, and this was nothing more than a joke to freak out Papyrus. She wasn't supposed to be here, after all. The door had been locked. Maybe she should just leave? Her hand touched the plastic knife, and her eyes darkened. She wasn't going anywhere. If something _had_ happened to Sans, and Papyrus, she was going to make whoever had done it pay. And even if Sans wasn't, he might be upstairs.

Frisk slowly began to climb the steps, going out of her way to avoid making any noise. However, upon reaching the top of the stairs, things became even more troubling. Although most of the area remained untouched, Sans' door was hanging open a crack. Never once had that happened. Sans was an expert at secrecy. She'd tried hundreds of times, if not thousands, to sneak a glance inside of that room. She'd never been able to get it open. There was no way that it being open was an accident.

The next thing she realized, however, was even more unsettling. Yes, even more unsettling than this impossible event of Sans' door being left open. There was no sign of any weird lights or sounds coming from beneath of it. It just hung there, behaving as if it were a completely normal door, rather than a portal to another dimension.

She took a step towards it, apprehensively. Another realization was bothering her, sending a shiver down her spine. The music in the house that had been so constant she'd learn to dismiss it long ago, that her subconscious had learned to label as nothing more than background music, was gone.

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Chara's eyes widened, and her face grew tight with ferociousness. She was staring out the window of her house, breathing in and out in a rather terrifying sort of way. It could only mean one thing… rage, pure, unadulterated, unbridled rage. She wasn't freaked out, anymore. She wasn't scared. She was offended, and annoyed.

She had made plans for five stinking years, and now somebody was just strolling around screwing up her vengeance! Sans was one of the highest people on the list of monsters she wanted to cut down herself. She hadn't even been able to celebrate it last time, as Frisk had snapped into some weird self-denial mode. And now… it looked like somebody was making it so that she would never get that chance. When she found out who was messing with her, she would tear them limb from limb.

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Frisk laughed nervously, holding tighter to the pocket watch in one hand, and the knife in the other. The pocket watch was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment, as all sorts of fears raced through her head. What would she see when she looked around the door? Maybe… Maybe this was a prank? Maybe he was just playing hide and seek, and when she came around the corner he would leap out and yell surprise. Megan must have put him up to it. They wanted to freak Papyrus. That's all. That had to be all…

The darkness of the room, and the silence of the house, were like an actual physical weight on her. It was pushing her back… Insisting she not enter the room… Insisting she run. It felt like a horror movie, the abomination waiting on the other side of the door. But there were times when she simply couldn't run, when what little determination she had inside of her, refused to let her turn tail. This was one of those times.

And then she was at the door. How could an ordinary, every day, wooden door be so terrifying? If anybody else had been there, they would no doubt have declared Frisk insane. And they would be far more accurate than they knew. She took a deep, calming breath. At least, that was the plan. It ended up not being so calming, coming out rather shaky instead. Why the heck was she so apprehensive? Of course it was nothing! What the heck did she think was going to happen in _Sans'_ house of all places? Grabbing the door, she yanked it open.

The room was empty. Completely, totally, and in every way, empty. No bed, dresser, boxes, etc. There were four bare walls and an empty wooden floor. There was absolutely no proof that anybody had lived here, ever. Frisk stood, frozen, simply staring at the empty room. Her mind didn't know how to comprehend this. It was as if Sans had simply ceased to exist. Anything that had ever hinted that he might have been there at one point was gone. The room didn't just look empty. It looked like it had never been used. No scratches, marks, or stains.

Swallowing back her dread, Frisk stepped into the room. And then something happened, something peculiar. It was the sort of thing one would have completely expected from Papyrus' and Sans' house once upon a time. As ordinary as it was now, though… it felt out of place. It was as if the house was giving off one last gasp of bizzarity before passing away into legend.

A lump appeared in Frisk's pocket, the opposite one to where she kept her stopwatch. Left Frisk with a little bit of a quandary. Did she let go of the pocket watch to check the pocket, or did she let go of her knife? She wasn't feeling at all safe right now, but in a situation like this… which one really provided the most security? She released the stopwatch.

Instantly, her hand latched back onto it again. No way was she choosing the weapon. So, shakily, her left hand released the dagger. It reached into her pocket and gripped whatever this new addition to her clothing was. It felt… like a piece of paper. Pulling it out, she found that this is _exactly_ what it was. A crumpled up piece of paper had magically appeared in her pocket.

When unfolded, it was only about half the size of a typical printer page. Five letter were written in the middle of said page in a generic handwriting impossible to differentiate from any others that she had seen. It seemed, if this was indeed from Sans' as she hoped it was, even his unique handwriting style had vanished. All the paper said was, "Erase."

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Chara froze, her racing thoughts pausing for a second. Erase. She knew the word all too well. It was her underlying goal, her purpose. It was the whole reason she had been born into the world, and when she had failed, Frisk had been created to finish the job. Chara had tried to convince Frisk of this many times, but she'd always replied with words like murder, kill, and demon. Except for during that one run, Frisk had been willingly blind to destiny.

They weren't meant to _kill_. How can one kill something that never existed in the first place? They needed to _erase_ everyone, _erase_ any guilt, _erase_ the memories, and ultimately, _erase_ the world. Thing was, some idiot seemed to think it was _their_ destiny to do that now. Was it possible that Frisk had taken too long, and somebody else had been created to do it for them? Because Sans' room was definitely erased, and it most certainly wasn't by either of them.

"Screw up my plans. Steal my destiny. Toy with me like a puppet. Whoever you are… you have no idea who you are messing with," Chara thought under her breath. "You are going to die."

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Frisk stared at the note, eyes pale and face pale. A thousand memories connected like the synapses in the brain. All the times Chara had urged her to erase… She shuddered, and threw the paper back to the floor as if it were on fire and put her hands to her head, trying to shut out the memories that had… for a moment… broken through the dam.

All the dust, all the betrayals. It hadn't started as anything major, just an experiment to find out what would happen if certain monsters died. She'd always been able to go back in time if she needed to, unmurder them. At the time, she hadn't seen anything wrong with it. One could just undo the action, after all. But it had scarred _her_ mentally… Caused her to forget the value of the lives of others… awoken the demon that she now constantly fought to keep buried.

Her head was throbbing, her thoughts racing, and it hurt. There had never been a time when Sans wasn't here. She'd cut down Papyrus before… and then left Sans to live here alone, but she had never left Papyrus by himself. This time it wasn't her fault… so why did she feel responsible for it? How would he handle knowing that Sans was gone? _Would he_?

The thought entered her head, and her mind began to panic. Toriel was gone. Megan was gone. Even Sans was gone… But she could go on… She'd find a way. She always had. She couldn't live in this broken world with Papyrus though. Turning, she raced over to Papyrus' door. That had to be the same, right? Come on… Race car bed, computer, action figures, box of bones, pirate flag. They had to be there… They just had to be. Please…

Reaching the door, she ripped it open… and instantly breathed a sigh of relief. The room was untouched. The race car bed was made like Papyrus did every morning. The action figures were set up in a duel to the death, aliens vs. wizards. It looked as if this time around, the wizards were winning. That was uncommon. The box of bones was even taller than the last time she had checked, though she didn't think by more than two or three.

The computer was left on, running the media creation program for The Papyrus Song. The pirate flag waved proudly off the back porch where she had helped Papyrus set it up a year or so prior. Absolutely everything was the same. This room looked like it hadn't even been touched by whatever had infected the rest of the house. For whatever reason, it was completely unaffected.

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So they'd left the buffoon unscathed. That was beyond odd, and it screwed up her theory about him being sent to replace her. Sure, Papyrus was an oaf, but he was still a being. She could see no reason why somebody who wanted to erase Sans' would leave his brother behind. Even if all they were after was some bizarre vengeance, anybody who had it in for Sans would know that the worst way to hurt him would be to do something horrific to Papyrus. It simply made no logical sense.

And then there was the paper. What the heck was it supposed to mean? Why in the world had it been made to magically appear in Frisk's pocket when she entered the room? And who in the world had left it? She doubted Sans would take the time to set up something that elaborate whilst in the middle of being killed. She was befuddled, and she hated feeling that way. Once again, her hatred for whoever was toying with her increased.

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The thorough relief of seeing Papyrus' room the same as always, allowed a respite from all of the terror that had been racing through her since entering Megan's house. The panic had finally begun to subside enough to allow for more orderly thinking. Frisk allowed herself to slide down the wall and sit.

She wanted to reset. More than anything she wanted to reset. But she couldn't… Not anymore. She'd always taken it for granted, forgotten that it was something she was merely being allowed to use. As such, it was something she could also lose the privilege to use. She didn't have determination anymore.

Things were bad for the first time in a while, and instead of feeling a burning desire to fix it… like she once had… all she wanted to do was run and hide. But there was nowhere to go. Everyone, and everything, that had felt safe was being eliminated, one after another. What had she done to deserve this?

' _A lot'_ , was the answer… but nothing that anybody knew about. So why did it feel like someone was out to get her? That she had an unseen enemy? Both Flowey and Yellow had mentioned she was involved in some sort of conflict… But she was utterly clueless as to why. It wasn't fair… "Please… Stop…" It was unclear who she was talking to. The world? Herself? …Chara? This unknown force? Even she didn't know…

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The world crumbles, piece by piece. What is the goal? Why is Papyrus unharmed? Just what is this mysterious adversary after? And, with Frisk merely a broken shell of who she once was, is there anybody left who can stop him? Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones


	15. Chapter 14: Reaching A Decision (Frisk)

Papyrus returns, but instead of the comfort that Frisk was hoping for, things take a surprising turn. She is faced with a decision that she has never had the opportunity to make before. Now that her powers have vanished… Now that she is finally able to disappear… Is there any reason _not_ to?

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 **Chapter 14: Reaching A Decision {Frisk}**

Frisk's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door to the house being unlocked. And then the sound of the door being opened, followed by immediately by a very welcome boom. "GOOD FOR NOTHING BROTHER SANS, I DEMAND YOU DO YOUR JOB AND JOIN US THIS INSTANT!" Papyrus had returned to his home. "LAZY OR NOT YOU ARE STILL SECOND IN COMMAND OF THE ROYAL GUARDS, SO YOU NEED TO HELP ME LEAD THEM INTO GLORIOUS BATTLE. WE MUST KILL THE PEOPLE WHO…"

The voice suddenly died down, and Frisk winced. He must have realized what was missing downstairs. "WE HAVE BEEN ROBBED!" His voice exploded in shock and alarm. Frisk could almost read his mind. He was probably wondering how Sans' would have allowed something like that as he was most certainly not _that_ lazy. Plus… "SANS! SOMEBODY STOLE YOUR PET, AND YOUR BOOK, AND YOUR SOCK!?" Everything that was missing belonged to Sans.

Frisk could hear the sound of Papyrus beginning to bound up the stairs. Papyrus was here… She wasn't alone anymore. He could… could fix all of this. He could make everything right… somehow. At least, he might have some idea what to do now. Frisk rose… and fell back to the ground. Her legs were weak; whether from the cold, or the fight with Yellow, or the struggle through the snow to get here, or the stress of what she had just gone through was unclear. However, on her second attempt, she succeeded in getting to her feet.

Frisk stumbled out the door of Papyrus' room and watched as Papyrus came racing up the stairs. She didn't really have the strength to put any expression on her face right now. She felt numb, way too numb. She opened her mouth, presumably to ask him for some sort of comfort. However, the words that came out weren't really anything as uplifting or hopeful as that. "Papyrus…" She began. "Sans is gone, and Toriel is dead."

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Papyrus stopped on the stairs, his eyes wide. The words that Frisk had just said ran through his mind, over and over again. Instantly, he put out a hand to steady himself as an unbidden memory raced through his head.

 _"DAD! WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE FOR ASGORE'S PARTY! HE ISN'T GOING TO BE HAPPY IF WE ARE LATE AGAIN!" As soon as the elevator doors opened, tiny Papyrus came rushing out of them. His dad had been working here late into the night, and he had been hanging out at the restaurant nearby. As his dad hadn't returned yet, he was going to pick the guy up. It wasn't unlike him to forget things while focused whole-heartedly on an invention after all._

 _The area was empty. Papyrus froze, glancing around. The metallic floor of the core wasn't thin, and was at least twenty foot wide. This area was mostly just a circle of metal, about thirty foot in diameter, over the middle of the core. There was a smaller hole, some six foot in diameter, the middle of it._

 _"DAD?" Papyrus stepped out, eyes glancing around. Then his eyes locked onto a few pieces of scrap metal remaining at the far end of the area. Quickly dashing over to it, Papyrus could easily confirm. It was meant to be a panel for an invention Gaster had been working on in this area. There was no sign of it, and there was no sign of Gaster._

 _He was too distracted, standing there, to notice the sound of the elevator opening behind him again. Alphys, who in her young state looked pretty much like Megan had as a child, with the addition of arms of course, stepped up next to him. "Gone…" She said quietly. "He vanished from my video screens. Just… disappeared. I came straight here to check it out." He could have fallen. Both knew the possibility, but there was nothing to confirm or deny it. Both him and his invention were simply… gone._

"THE MONSTER KILLED BOTH MEGAN AND TORIEL!?" Those were the words that came out of his mouth. He didn't want to act as if he had even heard the other statement. That the same thing had happened to Sans' that had happened to his dad. He didn't want to hear that Sans was gone.

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Papyrus pushed past Frisk and raced into Sans' empty room. And then he stopped, and simply stood there, frozen. His eyes were wide, periodically darting about. It was as if he was reliving some memory from his past, as if he had stumbled into a horrible nightmare that he had experienced before. Seeing Papyrus like this was nearly suffocating. Never once, despite everything she'd seen Papyrus go through, had he ever looked like this. He was broken too.

Frisk walked over to him, and stared at the empty room. There was literally nothing, not even a speck of dust. It was weird… There was no way that even somebody as bizarre as Sans could have pulled this off. It wasn't just that everything had been moved. It was like… like the room had never been lived in…

It was as if… as if… Sans the skeleton had never even existed. But he had… right? She wasn't going insane… was she? After what had gone down at Megan's house, she wasn't so sure. But if Sans didn't exist… did anything? Was she locked up in some insane asylum somewhere making up all of this crazy crap?

Frisk felt weird… detached… everything that had been happening that day was catching up to her, and she was beginning to shut down. Her brain couldn't handle it, couldn't accept that even if she did nothing, the world would still fall apart. Like it had been on a countdown before she arrived, and nothing could stop it. And if she tried to stop it in any way, doomsday just came that much faster. Nothing made sense.

She didn't want to do this, didn't want to mess with any of the pain that the world seemed to so love throwing at her. All she wanted to do was take a nap, and have some of Mom's butterscotch pie. But no… that wasn't going to happen. She would never be able to do that again. Papyrus was broken, and so was she. They would be broken together.

Frisk rested her hand on Papyrus' shoulder, but he didn't respond. Frisk's eyes wandered downwards, and she noticed the wadded paper that she had thrown to the floor. She hadn't been able to make much sense of it, but maybe Papyrus could. The door was locked, after all.

She wasn't supposed to be there. It was quite possible the message was supposed to materialize in Papyrus' pocket when he had entered the room. Maybe, this was another thing that her very existence had messed up. Stooping down, she picked it up, and handed the wadded paper to papyrus. "I… found… this. Do you recognize the handwriting?"

The change in Papyrus was instantaneous. He went from a broken down, unmoving monster to a frantic, take-charge one. His eyes flew open, and he grabbed the paper out of her hands. The emotions that had come back into his face were various, but fear and stress were by far the most readable. Se had this nagging feeling that, somehow, showing Papyrus the paper had made things worse. Clearly, he knew what it was trying to tell them.

Papyrus quickly pulled Frisk into his room and closed the door behind them. He didn't utter a word, but the look on his said it all. He had much bigger things to worry about right now than Sans' mysterious disappearance. And _that_ was saying a lot. He strode over to his closet and pulled it open. Reaching into the back, and moving aside some of his clothes, he pulled out a really bizarre looking trash bag.

Apparently, there was still _something_ whacky in the house of Sans', and she was looking at it right now. In shape, color and size, it appeared a normal garbage bag. However, it had a galaxy painted on it, with the stars constantly moving and spinning and spiraling. It was the sort of thing she would typically have marveled over, but Papyrus was clearly in a hurry. Marveling would have to wait.

Before Frisk really had much chance to react, all of Papyrus' precious memorabilia that the two of them had shared countless hours on was being hurled into the garbage bag. The aliens and wizards, never to share another battle, the war suddenly inconsequential. He tore down the proud pirate flag, the one to which they'd sung the pirate anthem to so many times… and that too went into the trash.

Next went the computer, along with the Papyrus song he had been working on for months, and all the songs they created together over the course of their friendship. Then he reached for the box of bones he had been collecting for years, by far his most treasured possession. Frisk reached out, silently, her feet unmoving. She was in shock, completely at a loss. She had no idea what was going on, but she wanted it to stop.

Papyrus reached into the bottom of the box, pulled something out and slipped it into his coat. Then he took the box and hurled it into the bag. Frisk wanted to scream. She knew how much he loved that collection. How could he throw it away with such reckless abandon? Then things got weirder, and more unsettling as well.

Papyrus leapt on top of his bookshelf, spread the bag as wide as it could go, and slowly pushed it down onto the bookshelf. Ever so slowly, the massive shelf disappeared into the bag. Within just a couple of minutes, Papyrus' room looked exactly the same as Sans', as if nobody had lived there… ever. Mission accomplished, he tossed the bag into a corner of the room, where it promptly vanished.

Grabbing two more bags from his closet, he tossed one to Frisk. Apparently, they weren't done yet. "HELP ME ERASE THE REST OF THE HOUSE, FRISK!" He ordered hastily. And suddenly, she found herself being pulled into the upstairs hallway. That happened a lot in their interactions, didn't it?

Papyrus would get excited about some crazy thing, and the next thing she knew, he'd be dragging her somewhere. Sometimes it was all the way across town and out into the wilds of Snowdin. Except, Papyrus wasn't excited. He seemed stressed out, and downright scared. But Sans' was gone, and he was never concerned about his own safety. Which meant that all of this was supposed to be for… her? That thought made her feel worse than she already did.

This realization, when added to Papyrus' urgency, snapped her out of her detached stasis, for the moment at least. She glanced down at the trash bag in her hand, and wondered again, what the galaxy bag was supposed to mean exactly. Clearly it was something unsettling, as one had seemingly just swallowed itself.

Was it supposed to be the actual galaxy as a trash bag? A trash bag that could hold a galaxy? The one he'd thrown away certainly didn't seem to have had any trouble fitting Papyrus' bed, shelves, dresser, and desk. But if it were really that big, why throw it away. And even if that _was_ the case, it didn't explain why the bag had vanished into thin air!

So many questions were swirling through her head right now. But one was stronger than the others… Why? Why was Papyrus destroying everything? How was that supposed to protect her, or anybody else, for that matter? She wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer. Because he knew… whatever the answer was… Papyrus clearly knew it. This had been way too planned out to be some sort of spur of the moment craze, and the paper had been the signal.

Frisk began to unravel the thoughts swirling about and sort out all of the questions she had. The ones she would ask Papyrus when she managed to work up the courage. Why did he have the bags? Why were he, and presumably Sans as well, erasing all traces of themselves. That must have been what the paper meant. Do this. But… why?

Had Sans leapt into one of the bags, erasing himself from existence? Had Megan? Did the bag simply make things no longer exist, or were they stored somewhere… like what the freaky backpack she sometimes found lying about did? If Sans was erasing things, why had he only grabbed the things that solely belonged to him? Was that note from Sans?

More to the point, had it really been an accident that she had been the one to end up with the paper, or did Sans' want her to do this at her place too? Was she also supposed to erase herself? A shudder ran through Frisk's thought at the very thought of erasing anything else… She'd done it so many times already. She didn't want to ever do it again, but here she was… holding the bag.

Frisk peered in, curiously. It was pitch black inside, and she couldn't see the bottom. Was it endless? What exactly would happen if she jumped into the bag? Would she cease to exist? Would all of it be over? Chara would be gone from the world at last… and Demon Frisk would go with her. Erase. It was actually rather tempting.

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Chara stared at the bag, mesmerized. Could it really be that simple? Suicide had never been an option. If death were truly the escape she wanted it to be, that would have been great. But she'd just end up in some kind of messed up afterlife where the universe would still be out to get her. Possibly still bound to the same body as Frisk, unable to truly live. She wasn't a soul after all, just an empty shell of a body. What did that mean for the afterlife, then? Would she even be able to make it there?

Her big plan was simple. A start-over. Get everybody to the next life, and then go there herself. An alternate reality, a new story… A better world, carved lovingly by her blade. Sometimes she didn't believe it possible though. She'd seen Frisk start over so many times. It got to the point, with the genocide run, that she didn't even want to move on. She just wanted there to be… nothing. Nothing to hurt her, nothing to hope for, nothing to live or die for, just… Nothing.

The bag promised Nothing, didn't it? But she couldn't go in, couldn't let Frisk go in. Five long years of waiting, and she wanted to try one more time. Kill them all, and then activate Sans' machine. Create a new world, and allow a new Chara to have a chance at a better life.

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Frisk found herself remembering what Flowey had told her at the end of the Genocide Route. At the time, she'd wanted nothing more than to storm past him and finish erasing everything. It was right before she killed Sans. She'd gotten tired of everything and simply wanted there to be… nothing. One couldn't screw up nothing, and she'd been so sick of screwing everything up… She hadn't even been able to die back then.

Flowey had told her that he had done much the same. He'd realized his life had no meaning, and tried to take it, discovering the SAVE powers. When they showed up, something had pushed him toward them. He hadn't been able to let himself die. Yet, all he got was the same predictable loop. Everything always turned out the same. And she had understood that perfectly. By that time, she had done countless runs herself.

It was funny. People seemed to think that time travel was a gift, that going back in time in order to fix past mistakes would be a wonderful superpower. Flowey and herself had found quite the opposite. That no matter how many times you went backwards certain things always happened. It was like… the world was headed toward a specific destinations, and regardless of how many detours you put in the way, it always seemed to end up in the same place. A time travel power… was nothing but a curse.

"To be blunt... it makes it kind of hard to give it my all." Sans had said that to her, about her constant resets. But he hadn't understood just how well she'd sympathized with his statements. The inability to change things despite the constant resets had left her with the exact same feeling.

Things were different now though. She was no longer saddled with the cursed time travel ability. If she wanted to die, she could. She could just jump in the bag, and, well… she didn't know what would happen. She didn't know anything about the bags, but she wouldn't be here. She would no longer be in The Underground. And that would be better for everybody.

Images of the horrific things she'd done began to race through her head. Mettaton in a broken heap of metal on the floor. Alphys' horrified look as she wept over Mettaton. Young Megan's expression as Frisk attempted to drive a dagger through her heart. Sans' blood draining onto the floor. She'd even killed her Mom once, on the Genocide run. And the words she had said as she faded to dust… "Now I see who I was protecting by keeping you there. Not you... But them!"

Yes… She needed to… She looked at the bag again, and opened it up. She peered into the emptiness, and stopped. It wasn't that she was afraid. She hated herself so much that even _she_ would be relieved to see herself vanish into nothing. But she knew that she couldn't do it, at least not yet. She had to at least _try_ to help, even if she wasn't very powerful. Disappearing wouldn't stop the maniac that had cut down Toriel. That was up to her.

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Frisk the Undetermined has made a vow. She will not bend. She will not break. She will do whatever she must to save the world. It is her duty. But how long will this determination last, and does she even have the power to back up such a claim? Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones

5


	16. 15: An Unwelcome Farewell (Frisk)

Once you have decided to change things, that is when the difficulties arrive. When you realize that you are simply not enough, and yet proceed anyways, that is when true character begins to be built. But that is also only the beginning.

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 **Chapter 15: An Unwelcome Farewell {Frisk}**

Of course, Frisk didn't have the slightest clue how she was supposed to be doing that. She was just an ordinary human in the Underworld now, nothing more. During her runs, she had been special. Her power had come from her ability to try anything and everything, and if something went wrong, she could always go back. It was how she had come so close to freeing everyone before. Ironically, it was also how she'd managed to kill everyone.

She clutched at her chest, remembering the pain. Sans had killed her so many times she'd lost count, again and again. Bones shattering her heart, her chest, her head. Crushing her ribs. Any kind of bodily pain a bone could inflict upon a person she had endured. Time and time again. She'd brought it on herself though, and the memory of the pain was nothing more than one of the payments for her crimes.

Frisk didn't have that ability anymore, the ability to reset. Somebody had taken it from her, making her feel fragile, easily crushed, like a tiny dollhouse that could be blown away by a tornado so easily nobody would even notice. Without her powers, and with none of the eXecution Points that had once stained and strengthened her body, but most certainly strengthened the murderer's, what could she possibly do?

She glanced at Papyrus, who was continuing to dash around throwing stuff into his bag. That was a question for another time, though. With Papyrus giving his all like this, willing to sacrifice everything without a moment's hesitation, just to protect her, how could she do any less than give everything that she had?

Actually, she paused for a second. He had saved one small thing, hadn't he? He'd thrown every treasure that she knew existed into his bag without showing any sign of indecision. But he'd saved something. What kind of keepsake would be so much more important to him than any of that? Momento… would probably have been a better word. Toriel had taught it to her, back when Papyrus had first given her the pocket watch.

 _Toriel_ … Frisk felt the deep emptiness begin to claw at her again, and she pushed it off hurriedly. Now was not the time to get drawn back into that emotional void. "Papyrus," she called out to him. "What are you doing?! And _why_ exactly are doing it!?"

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Papyrus paused for a second, glancing down at the bag. What kind of a question was that? Surely his actions and the paper made it clear what they were doing. "WE ARE ERASING THE HOUSE," he said simply. "ERASING ALL PROOF THAT WE EVER LIVED HERE." The look of bewilderment on Frisk's face caused him to pause. He understood it all too well.

For a brief moment, his grief made it through the shell he had become so great at maintaining. The house had always felt alive to him. What he was doing felt like losing a close friend. "GOODBYE, HOUSE," he thought silently. "THANK YOU FOR ALL THE GOOD TIMES. IF SANS' WERE HERE… I'M SURE HE'D SAY THE SAME THING."

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A few days earlier, life had been simple, ordinary. He'd been in his room, working on one of his many songs, and Sans' room had been making far more noise than normal. He'd gotten skilled at removing the normal level of annoyance from his recordings, but this was so loud that he was having a problem hearing himself. And as he was rather loud, this was both impressive… and annoying.

Storming out of his room, Papyrus marched over to Sans' and pounded on it rather violently. "STOP MAKING SO MUCH NOISE, SANS! I AM TRYING TO RECORD SOME NEW MUSIC FOR THE NEXT ROYAL GUARD MEETING, WHICH YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE AT, BY THE WAY!" He turned to head back to his room. He didn't expect a response, to be honest.

He was pretty sure there were times when the door blocked any sound from getting in, and even if now wasn't one of those times, whatever bizarre thing was going on in there was blasting out so much noise that it could easily drown out his voice. Besides, his annoying little brother never listened. Which was why it was such a surprise to not only have the noise actually stop, but also hear the door open behind him.

Papyrus spun around to see Sans' peering out at him, sweat dripping from his face. He looked deeply troubled, which was never a good sign. Papyrus had only ever seen him this way a couple of times, and it had always led to rather complicated problems.

"We need to talk, Pap," Sans nodded his head toward Papyrus' room.

Papyrus immediately opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. His brother was acting peculiar, even for him, and he really didn't really want to know what was going on. As the older brother, he had a responsibility though. "MAKE IT QUICK," was what he decided to go with. "UNLIKE YOU, THE GREAT PAPUYRS ISN'T A FAN OF WASTING TIME." The two brothers stepped into Papyrus' bedroom and closed the door.

As soon as the door was closed, Sans leaned close to Papyrus. "I am going to tell you something Papyrus, and I need you to listen closely. Do not blow off what I am about to say to you. Do not write it off as 'your younger brother being annoying.' Treat what I am about to tell you as the gravest thing you have ever heard. The fate of monsterkind, and possibly the world itself, depends upon you doing so."

Papyrus swallowed. Just as he had predicted, Sans had a new problem that they were going to have to fix. Wouldn't be the first time, but it had been quite a while since the last one. He wanted to ask why they were in his room, behind a closed door, whispering when nobody else was even in the house, but figured he'd save that question for some less unsettling time. "I'M LISTENING."

"Frisk is in danger, a lot of danger, and if we are unable to tip the scales, she will die. Unfortunately, that will be a lot harder than one might hope for." Sans glanced around. "It's a very complicated situation. I pray I'm mistaken, but if I'm not, we are going to need to be prepared. I've already spoken to Grillby, Toriel, and Megan. They know what they are going to have to do. Your job is going to be simple. I want you to erase everything in this house, top to bottom. I'll take care of my room and the lab."

"WHY DON'T YOU TAKE CARE OF _EVERYTHING_ IN THE HOUSE IF YOU ARE GOING TO KNOW WHEN IT NEEDS TO BE DONE?" Papyrus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There are other things that I have to do, that only I can do," Sans replied, shaking his head. He didn't go into what those things were, and Papyrus didn't ask. He knew what Sans' was capable of, but even knowing all he did, sometimes Sans' actions were beyond his level of comprehension. "No more questions. This is for Frisk, Papyrus. No matter what happens, no matter what it looks like, everything that we do from here on out is for Frisk. The Chess Master has spoken, and we must obey. PROMISE!""

This time, Papyrus didn't argue. He simply nodded his head. "I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR FRISK. I PROMISE."

Sans reached down and slid off one of his gloves. Papyrus stared, wide-eyed as he did so. Never once, in the several hundred years they'd been together, had Papyrus seen Sans without his gloves on. Even when he slept, in a heated room, only wearing his boxers, the gloves never left his hands. Papyrus had always felt that something secret had to be hidden underneath. And he was right. On Sans' hands, pointer fingers, were two aqua colored rings. "Give these to Frisk for me, if the worst should happen."

Papyrus did not reach for them. He didn't like what Sans' was implying. "WHY NOT GIVE THEM TO HER YOURSELF? I'M SURE SHE'D BE OK WITH THAT," he protested.

"If the worst should happen, I probably won't be seeing her again," Sans shook his head sadly, and Papyrus took the rings. It felt like he was signing his brother's death certificate as he did so. "Frisk only needs to wear one, but the other is not for you. I suggested that, but apparently The Chess Master has another pawn somewhere. For the time being, he will be her guardian. After you erase everything, tell Frisk goodbye and head to the lab. Once you get there, you'll know what to do."

Papyrus wanted to argue, to say that this was utter nonsense, to say that Sans' was going to be fine, that he wasn't going to let Frisk do... whatever it was she was supposed to do, with some stranger that even Sans's didn't know anything about. He wanted to say a lot, but didn't say any of it. Instead, he swallowed the argument. This was for Frisk. Sans had said so, and whatever his opinion was of his brother, Papyrus trusted him completely. If Sans said this was how it had to be done, then so be it.

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"THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOESN'T KNOW," Papyrus replied honestly. He'd steeled himself now, knew what had to be done, and as such, his old demeanor had returned. This was all for Frisk. As such, it was time to say goodbye. "BUT HE KNOWS THAT IT HAS TO BE DONE."

He took the bag from Frisk's hands, quite to her surprise, and motioned for the door. Frisk's eyes darted towards it. "TIME FOR YOU TO RUN HOME, FRISK. THE GREAT PAPYRUS CAN HANDLE EVERYTHING ELSE ON HIS OWN." Papyrus reached into his pocket, pulled out whatever it was that he had been hiding and dropped it into Frisk's pocket.

Before Frisk had time to react, she found herself being ushered quickly out of the house, the door being locked behind her. Her first reaction was to turn back to the door and start screaming for Papyrus to open it, as Megan had done to Sans earlier that day. But… she hadn't. Megan hadn't done that, ever. Was everything that was going on a result of Megan not going to Sans? Would everything have been avoided if she had?

 _"You really should have gone to Chara's room, Red. We suspected you wouldn't, but life would have been so much simpler if you had. So much could have been avoided."_ Yellow's words reverberated through her mind. Even if she had done exactly the same things this time around, that option would apparently not have been available. And yes, she was to blame for everything that was going on… again.

She didn't know why Papyrus was doing what he was doing, and perhaps it was better that way. She really didn't need her hand in everything going on around her, especially if she didn't have the power to control it the way she used to. If Papyrus thought this needed to be done, and was taking it _that_ seriously, she'd just have to trust him.

Her eyes then darted down to her pocket, and she pulled out the items that Papyrus had dropped there. Two shimmering aqua rings. They looked like they had been made by a master craftsman, and as if no expense had been spared. But… what did they mean? What were they for? Why… when he was willing to throw away everything else, had Papyrus chosen to keep these. And why the _heck_ had he then given them to _her_?

She was tempted to put one on, find out if it had any special properties… But she found herself hesitating. For some reason, wearing a gemstone ring given to her by Papyrus seemed like a pretty momentous thing. Then there was the question of the number. Why in the world had he given her two of them? Maybe things would make more sense when she got home. That _is_ where Papyrus told her to go. Her sanctum… But without Toriel there…

Frisk punched the door and sighed. She didn't want to go home, but what other choice did she have? Where else would she go? She didn't want to have to deal with any of this. She had made a pretty decent life for herself, hadn't she? Why was this always happening to her? Was she cursed, as Chara had told her so many times before?

The answer was simple. She was a human attempting to live some semblance of a life in the Underworld. That simply wasn't possible. People would always come after her. The world itself would reject her. It knew she didn't belong here. It was always going to happen. As this realization sunk in, Frisk felt the breath get knocked out of her.

She had been doomed from the start. She… it didn't matter what she did. It didn't matter how hard she tried. It had never mattered. How could she have been so stupid? Why hadn't she grasped it after twenty… fifty… a hundred runs? She'd always thought that she must have been making some sort of mistake. But no… She would never find peace, and neither would the Underworld.

So what was the point in going forward? She'd chosen to do so, hadn't she? From day one, it had always been one foot in front of the other. But the point… the point was to do whatever Papyrus wanted her to. She had no idea why, and she was pretty sure that he didn't either, but she trusted his judgment. He had promised to keep her safe, after all.

There wasn't a lot she trusted in the world, she didn't even trust the world itself, but she trusted Papyrus. Fiddling the rings, she slipped them back into her pocket, and started running through the blizzard towards her house. As she ran, she felt the weight of the toy dagger in one pocket, and the ring and pocket watch in the other. She had no idea what was ahead, but that wasn't going to stop her from diving head first into it.

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Home… To an empty house. To a place that used to feel safe. To a place that belongs to another world, another time, another Frisk. What could she possibly hope to find there? As the mysteries around our hero begin to tighten their grip, Frisk finds herself doing what she does best. Taking one step at a time. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, your fanship means a lot to me. Hope to hear from you.

~ Xanatos Stones


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